


A Lullaby For The Stars

by 13Kat13



Series: Cosmic Siren Song Playlist [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Alternate Universe - Space, Fluff, M/M, Science Fiction, Space Fleet is a dumb name, Victor's thirst is unconquerable throughout the known universe, big ass space battle, feels Trekky but I have never watched a single episode of ST in my life, reel it the fuck in boy, siren au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-09 17:19:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 24,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13486158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/13Kat13/pseuds/13Kat13
Summary: "It’s a body, floating in the vacuum. Nebulous colours drift around them, like a star belt spun into fabric. These vapours seem to draw themselves around the figure, partially clothing it, leaving stretches of creamy skin visible."Space AU with explosions and stars and two nerds in love.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xylophones](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xylophones/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Siren's Call: A Collection](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12657330) by [lucycamui](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucycamui/pseuds/lucycamui). 



> This is one of the madder things I've done. But if you, like me, are suffering at the hands of Lucycamui and Crimson-chain's beautiful siren au then you may understand why I had to write my own 23,000 word one. Check out the artwork and fics here (I still don't know how to link properly): https://crimson-chains.tumblr.com/tagged/Siren+AU
> 
> I think we can blame xylophones for the fact it turned into a space au, as I only really ever write fantasy not sci-fi. Check out their fluffy and funny Star Trek au here: http://archiveofourown.org/series/698742
> 
> I'd like to say whilst this feels Trekky and borrows a lot of the vibes from Star Trek, I have never watched a single episode in my life. So... yeah, watch these two fuck about in space. Enjoy.

* * *

If Victor’s honest, he’s not entirely sure how he became Captain of a military vessel.

 

Okay, there had been the way he’d thrown himself at the job for years, and yes he’s pulled off some pretty spectacular missions that should really have been impossible. But mostly, he’s just a dork in space who enjoys whizzing around on his personal cruiser when he can.

 

Today is not one of the days he can. Five things have already gone wrong even though it should be an ordinary Tuesday and he’s at his wits end by early afternoon. Not that space _has_ afternoon.

 

And now there’s this. An unidentified object floating in the vacuum ahead of them and looking non-too-threatening but probably is because that’s the sort of day he’s having.

 

“Chulanont, try to get a read on what the hell that is,” Victor says from his Captain’s chair, glaring at the speck of colour he’s seeing in the wide window of the bridge. “I don’t want to alter our course if it’s just gas.”

 

Phichit Chulanont, Officer and navigator, gives his cheery ascent and taps away at the deck in front of him. An enlarged image of the thing in space zooms into view on the glass screen.

 

It’s a body, floating in the vacuum. Nebulous colours drift around them, like a star belt spun into fabric. These vapours seem to draw themselves around the figure, partially clothing it, leaving stretches of creamy skin visible. The body drifts, long limbs floating loosely out from what can only be a corpse.

 

Victor stares, momentarily caught by the absurdity of the situation, before he springs into action.

 

“We need to bring the body in,” he says turning to his First Officer, Christophe Giocometti, his expression grave. “Examine it for clues as to what happened. There might be more survivors close by. Full autopsy, alert Sara. Chulanont, do a sweep for the ship.”

 

Christophe nods and hurries off to carry out his orders. Victor turns back to look at the figure. He dips his head in respect. Where’s this person’s ship? Where’s the distress call?

 

Moments later, a beam of light falls across the body, and the coloured clouds jerk slightly as it starts to get reeled towards the ship. Victor leaves the bridge to head for the landing platform, the heels of his boots clicking across the floor as he hurries to see the strange figure.

 

The landing bay is lit by the same cool blue and white lights as the rest of the ship, a raised chrome dais in the centre of the white room. There are several clicks and thunks from somewhere beneath the dais, and then it opens, the supine figure of a man slowly raised up on the lift. Victor’s inhale is sharp.

 

He is beautiful. Thick, dark lashes cast shadow onto high cheekbones, a sweet little nose above full, slightly parted lips. Raven hair is swept back from a smooth forehead, face slack in death. The graceful limbs are loose around the slumped body, the strange, cloud-like clothing now settled across the curves, thinner than any material Victor’s ever seen, like solidified smoke.

 

“Captain!” Sara’s voice, her figure darting up onto the dais from where she was stood watching with Chris. “He’s breathing!”

 

Victor starts, pulled from his rapture to hurry forward, concern and confusion knitting his brow as he takes in the rise and fall of the man’s chest.

 

“But… he was out there…” Christophe says, joining Victor and Sara on the dais as Mila takes off towards the medical bay. “How is he alive?”

 

“I think the question is what, rather than how.” Victor says, watching as Sara presses her finger to the pulse point on the man’s neck.

 

“Steady heartbeat,” she reports, before bending to listen to the man’s chest, the dark curtain of her hair falling forward over her face.

 

“Can we move him to the medbay?” Victor asks, crouching down next to Sara.

 

“If we’re careful,” Sara says, still checking the man’s vitals. “I don’t know what injuries he sustained.”

 

But as her hands dance over his skin, the man stirs slightly.

 

“Captain!” Sara gasps again, just as Mila returns with Georgi and a stretcher.

 

Victor immediately leans forward, placing a hand on the man’s cheek to tilt his face towards him. He feels no threat from the man despite not knowing what he is. The dark lashes flutter, the brow pinching as the man stirs. He lets out a small groan.

 

“Can you hear me?” Victor says, soft and clear. “You’re aboard the Starship Neuro, you’re safe.”

 

Dark eyes of the deepest brown blink blearily up at him. Victor’s heart stutters and then thuds twice as fast.

 

Then the man screams.

 

Victor is hurled backwards as the man scrambles away from him, backing away so fast that his graceful body slams into the opposite wall. His crewmates let out sounds of alarm and Georgi and Mila’s hands flash to their stunners.

 

“No!” Victor barks, throwing out a hand to stop them as he struggles upright.

 

He gives them each a sharp look that has them lowering their weapons, before turning. The man is flattened against the wall, panic in his eyes as he takes in the group before him. The strange, colourful material is floating around him again, disturbed by his movement. Victor takes a step forward and the man throws out a hand, letting out a stream of panicked words in a language that Victor does not recognise. Victor raises his hands.

 

“It’s okay,” he says, trying to make his voice and expression as unthreatening as possible. “We’re military, we rescued you.”

 

The man just lets out another stream of chattering, the short syllables striking the air as his eyes dart to the exit.

 

“Look,” Victor takes his his gun out of its holster and lays it on the ground before straightening back up.

 

The man watches him do this, eyes suspicious as they stay fixed on Victor. Victor raises his empty hands again and takes another step forward.

 

The man lets out another few words which must be a warning to stay back, but Victor just takes a few more steps and then stops a little way from him. He points to the badge on his chest.

 

“I’m the captain of the Starship Neuro,” Victor tells him, knowing the man probably doesn’t understand but deciding that a calm tone of voice might help. “This is some of my crew. We’re army, we help people, do exploration and rescue missions.”

 

He pauses to ascertain whether the man has taken any of this in. But he just continues to watch Victor with wary eyes. Victor points to himself.

 

“Victor,” he says, before pointing at the man. “Can you tell me your name?”

 

The man’s mouth twitches. He’s taking in every detail of Victor with those big, dark eyes.

 

Victor points again at himself, repeating his name before pointing back at the man. There’s a pause, and then —

 

“Yuuri.”

 

The man’s voice is soft when not panicked, the syllables rounded. He’s still plastered to wall. Victor beams.

 

“Hello Yuuri,” he says, gentle and full of warmth.

 

Yuuri blinks at him, his hands clenching and unclenching repeatedly. Victor takes another step forward, and this time Yuuri does not flinch away.

 

“Can you tell me what happened out there?” Victor points to the wall and then at Yuuri, trying to sign out what he means.

 

Yuuri considers him for a moment, before seeming to make his mind up about something. He holds a hand out to Victor. Victor smiles, thrilled at this development. He steps forward, still careful to move slow and unthreatening. Yuuri lets him come to him, and accepts the hand that Victor extends. His skin is smooth, and very warm despite having just been in the vacuum of space. Victor can’t help the jolt in his pulse as their hands meet.

 

Yuuri searches Victor’s eyes for a moment and then closes his own. The feeling is instantaneous and makes Victor’s knees buckle.

 

Images flash through his mind, gone too quickly to grasp, a sensation like fingers flicking over his memories. He’s yanked out of it by the sound of shouting.

 

Yuuri’s hand is gone from Victor's and his knees are searing from hitting the floor. Every one of his crew-mates have their guns drawn and pointing at Yuuri, who is back to being plastered to the wall. Victor goes to give the order for them to lower their weapons, but at that moment Yuuri speaks for him. Something slices through the air in a horizontal arc over Victor’s head, knocking his crew off their feet. Victor turns and sees Yuuri with his face set, his nebulous skirts rising around him.

 

“Yuuri no!” Victor shouts, flinging a hand towards him. “They were defending me.”

 

Yuuri looks down at him, and his expression smoothes. Victor’s taken aback by the warmth he sees in Yuuri’s eyes as he gazes down at him.

 

“They are loyal,” Yuuri says, and Victor starts at hearing his own language on Yuuri’s tongue. “With good reason.”

 

“You…” Victor says, getting unsteadily to his feet. “You speak our language.”

 

Yuuri nods, still glaring at the crew he just scattered.

 

Victor stares at him, remembering the feeling of someone rifling through his mind.

 

“You can read minds,” he says, realisation dawning on him. “You learnt the language from me.”

 

Yuuri’s gaze shifts back to Victor, his lips twitching in what Victor thinks might be the beginnings of a smile. His skin almost shimmers under the blue lights, bare shoulders thrown back as he considers Victor.

 

Behind Victor his crew are getting to their feet, Mila cursing up a storm about her sore backside. Victor ignores them.

 

“What the flying fuck was that?” Sara groans, rubbing her head as she glares at Yuuri.

 

Yuuri simply blinks slowly back at her, expression insolently bored.

 

“That’s quite the punch you’re packing, hun,” Christophe says, massaging his hip, managing to give Yuuri a flirty smirk despite his obvious annoyance.

 

Victor ignores their grumbling and addresses Yuuri.

 

“What was that?” Victor repeats Sara’s question. He realises that as much as he’s inclined to like and trust Yuuri, he’s potentially a dangerous alien with yet unknown powers.

 

Yuuri opens his mouth, then closes it again, looking down at his feet.

 

“Yuuri, I need to protect my crew,” Victor implores. “Can it damage the ship? How strong is it?”

 

“I won’t damage the ship,” Yuuri says quietly, and the statement seems to surprise him slightly.

 

“Okay,” Victor says slowly. “How strong is it? Can it hurt my crew?”

 

Yuuri looks up at him and looks suddenly very sad. He slowly shakes his head. Victor changes tact.

 

“Why were you floating unconscious out there?” he asks, gaze raking Yuuri’s body. “Are you hurt?”

 

Yuuri shakes his head again, smoothing his hands over his arms as though to assess this fact himself. Victor’s momentarily distracted by the flex of his arm muscles.

 

“Where’s your ship?” Victor continues. “Could there be more survivors?”

 

Yuuri looks up at him. He seems to struggle with something for a moment.

 

“There is no ship,” he says finally.

 

Then Phichit bounds in.

 

“Captain, we’re on course for the Daria system but — oh hello,” Phichit says, interrupting Victor’s line of questioning as he catches sight of Yuuri. He skids to a halt, and after a quick flick of his eyes taking Yuuri in from head to toe, Phichit beams at him, his megawatt sunshine smile on fullblast.

 

“You’re the body we just pulled in, alive and well I see, oh but you’re so pretty, come here, ooh your dress is gorgeous, I like it,” Phichit says, talking a mile a minute as he bounces over to a bemused looking Yuuri, who lets Phichit take his hand and drag him forwards. “What were you doing out there? Oh my gosh what is your skin routine, you doll, we must trade tips.”

 

“Chulanont, we weren’t really finished here,” Victor complains, trailing after his Officer as he draws Yuuri away.

 

“Nonsense,” Phichit says, flapping a hand at him before folding it over Yuuri’s arm. “This boy’s had a horrible shock, he needs tea and hamster time.”

 

Victor can’t help the smile that tugs at the corner of his mouth even as Phichit outright ignores his Captain, because Yuuri is letting Phichit drag him along with a confused smile. His bare feet are light on the white floor, cloudy skirts swirling after him. But he stumbles slightly and holds onto to Phichit’s arm more tightly, making Victor frown.

 

“Take him down to Doctor Altin,” Victor orders in a last ditch attempt to take control of the situation. “He needs to be checked for injuries.”

 

“No it’s just...” Yuuri stutters and then blushes in a way that flings Victor’s brain directly into the nearest sun. “Gravity. I’m not used to it.”

 

Phichit coos over him and wraps his arm more securely around Yuuri’s waist. Then he’s chattering on again as he leads Yuuri off down the corridor.

 

“Babicheva, go with them,” Victor says, watching them go as he beckons her forward.

 

“Certainly, Captain,” she says, passing him. “Should I get someone else from security to watch him too?”

 

Victor hadn’t even been thinking about it in that way, he just wanted to make sure Yuuri was okay.

 

“Yes,” Victor replies, frowning and distracted. “Once he’s been to medical return him to me. I need to continue questioning him.”

 

Mila ducks her head in assent, already striding off after the pair.

 

Victor watches her go for a moment and then turns and heads towards the bridge, Christophe in his wake, the others following a little way behind.

 

“Yuuri says there was no ship, so we probably need to look for debris,” Victor says. “Slow us from Phichit’s path to the Daria system, I want to linger here and figure out what happened.”

 

“Yes, Captain,” Chris agrees as they step onto the bridge.

 

Victor goes and takes a seat in the Captain’s chair, overlooking the Officers as they reenter the ship’s course. At that moment, another ship pings onto their monitor. It’s a huge thing, bigger than the Neuro. And it’s racing towards them, showing no signs of slowing. Alarmed, Victor turns to Chris, who has taken Phichit’s vacant seat.

 

“Connect to that ship’s comms,” Victor orders. “If they aren’t careful they’re going to crash right into us.”

 

But as he speaks the ship slows. A call comes through on their own comms, and the glass that had been offering a view of the approaching ship flickers to an image of a human face Victor does not know.

 

“This is the Starship Neuro,” Victor says, tone clipped in annoyance at this ship’s recklessness. “You are coming dangerously close to violating military airspace, civilian.”

 

“Hardly,” the man on the screen drawls. “When we’ve been sent with the full blessing of the military, Captain Nikiforov.”

 

Victor blinks, and reevaluates the man. He’s got a soft face, something childish in his round cheeks and the flop of blonde hair on his head. He’s not wearing any sort of uniform as far as Victor can tell. In fact that looks like a lab coat.

 

“I’m sorry,” Victor says, his voice still cold despite the new information. “I was under the impression that we hadn’t met.”

 

“Oh you’re right, we haven’t,” the man says, a grin breaking out across his face. “But you’re the face of Space Fleet, Captain, it’d be very hard not to recognise you considering what we do.”

 

Victor catches Christophe swivel his own chair to face him, and knows he’s got his eyebrows raised in that look that’s long foretold a night of demolishing someone over a glass of wine.

 

“And what would that be, sir?” Victor asks politely, ignoring Chris’ look.

 

“We’re scientists of course,” the man replies. “But how rude of me, I haven’t introduced myself. I am Doctor Alexander Howard, at your service.”

 

Victor inclines his head graciously, aware that the rest of his crew on the bridge like Doctor Howard’s oily tone about as much as he does.

 

“But it is our duty to be of service to you, Doctor Howard,” he says. “How may we assist you in this military commissioned operation of yours?”

 

A greasy, pleased look comes over the Doctor’s face then. Victor feels a stab of foreboding, and wonders if he can possibly backtrack from the offer he just made.

 

“My deepest apologies, but I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to discuss that over comms,” Doctor Howard says, not sounding sorry at all. “Perhaps if I came aboard we could talk? I have the necessary papers for boarding a military vessel.”

 

Victor considers this. He can see Chris shaking his head violently out of the corner of his eye, but there’s really no good reason he can refuse. Especially not if Doctor Howard really is on military orders as he claims.

 

“Please,” Victor concedes, “we will arrange for your arrival, Doctor.”

 

“Thank you, Captain.”

 

And the call shuts off.

 

“I don’t like him,” Chris pipes up, barely after the video cuts.

 

“Giocometti,” Victor sighs, rubbing his temple which has started throbbing. “We have to accommodate civilians who request an audience. Especially those on military orders.”

 

“Yes but him?” Chris wrinkles his nose. “The good Doctor just seems so… oily.”

 

That is in fact the exact adjective Victor had applied himself to the man, but he paints on a scolding look.

 

“Enough, Giocometti,” he says, standing from his chair. “It’s our obligation.”

 

Christophe scoffs in a way that tells Victor that he knows he got the bitching-over-wine-look he threw him and can tell Victor is gagging for it too.

 

“I want you to remain on the bridge whilst I go meet Doctor Howard,” Victor tells him, eyeing the rest of his crew until they stop ogling the scene between Chris and him and jump back to work. “You are to continue searching for debris or other indicators of an accident.”

 

It strikes Victor then that Yuuri had been unaccustomed to gravity. If that was the case, and he could survive the vacuum of space, was there any ship at all? This is an absurd thought, because of course even with the other factors Yuuri would have still needed a ship to get off whatever planet he’s come from. Right?

 

Victor shakes the thought from his head, and brings his fingers to his ear and his watch to his lips as he leaves the bridge. His internal call buzzes for a second, before the voice of Seung-Gil Lee, Chief Science Officer comes into his ear.

 

“Captain?”

 

“Lee,” Victor says as he strides up the corridor. “I need you to come talk to a guest we’re soon to be hosting, meet me in my office.”

 

There’s a beat, then an irritated sigh.

 

“Isn’t Popovich up there with you?” Seung-Gil asks, his indifferent rudeness unfailing even in the face of his Captain. “Why do I have to come up?”

 

“Because whilst Popovich is a very accomplished Science Officer, he does not have your gift for making people sweat,” Victor says, hurrying now as he knows how fast a one man shuttle can be and he’d like to be set up in his office by the time the Doctor arrives.

 

“Ah,” says Seung-Gil, short but slightly less annoyed at Victor’s apparently interesting proposition. “I’ll be right up then, Captain.”

 

“Thank you,” Victor huffs, stepping into a lift and jabbing the button for his floor just as the call clicks off.

 

Fifteen minutes later, and Doctor Alexander Howard is being ushered into Victor’s office by a friendly cadet.

 

“Thank you, Olondra,” the Doctor says, politely but apparently indifferent to the pretty girl accompanying him.

 

Strange, Victor thinks, he’d pegged Alexander as the type to creep a bit of sexual harassment in where he could.

 

Victor has arranged himself behind his desk, which is in the outer room of his suite and the first place visitors have to enter before reaching his living areas beyond. It’s white and minimalist like the rest of the ship, but it has an air of private authority that the communal spaces he resides over lack. Seung-Gil stands at his shoulder, wearing the same coolly blank mask as ever.

 

“Doctor Howard,” Victor says, standing and rounding the desk to shake the Doctor’s hand. “Please sit. I trust you had no trouble getting through?”

 

“None at all,” Doctor Howard says, smiling obligingly as Victor gestures for him to take a seat.

 

“This is my Chief Science Officer, Doctor Seung-Gil Lee,” Victor says, indicating Seung-Gil as he retakes his seat. “He’s here in case I get a little lost with the nature of your mission. I take it it is science related, considering your profession?”

 

“Yes, of course,” Doctor Howard says, eyeing Seung-Gil with ill disguised displeasure that instantly puts Victor in a better mood.

 

“So, Doctor,” Victor starts. “How can we be of assistance?”

 

Doctor Howard considers this for a moment, making a show of tilting his head to one side as he thinks. Victor chooses to ignore this, instead going to pour them both a glass of water from the tray to the side of his desk.

 

“Well the problem is, Captain,” Doctor Howard says slowly, accepting the water and taking a long sip before he continues. “We’re rather at loss as to where a vital part of our mission has gone. I suppose you could say it’s the whole mission. And we were hoping you could help us find it.”

 

Victor, who’d half expected a mundane problem and lots of obnoxious babbling to make it seem bigger than it is, frowns at this vagueness.

 

“And what might this object be?” Victor asks, heavily hoping that Seung-Gil will be able to explain any obscure science tech that is about to come up. Victor was top of his year back at the Academy, but Seung-Gil has a tendency to turn into a talking textbook for even the most niche areas of science. It's one of the main reasons Victor hired him. 

 

“Oh it’s not an object,” the Doctor says, looking surprised that Victor thought so. “It’s a lifeform.”

 

“Indeed?” Victor prompts, his eyebrows rising at this new turn of events.

 

 _Then why did you say ‘it’?_  he wants to ask, but pushes the motion aside. Of course the Doctor would say ‘it’. He’s clearly _that_ sort of scientist.

 

“Yes,” the Doctor says, placing his glass down. “You see the reason we have military backing, is because this particular specimen is really very dangerous, Captain. And you see, we traced it here, to this stretch of space after weeks of pursuit. Only to have it vanish. As though into thin air. Or vacuum, as the case may be.”

 

Doctor Howard chuckles at his little joke.

 

There’s a dread growing in Victor, like thorns curling their way up around his ribs. He sees a body in space. He sees a little stumble as feet become accustomed to gravity. He sees a pair of wide, frightened brown eyes.

 

“So you see my problem, Captain Nikiforov,” Doctor Howard says, grimacing as though he really wished it was any other way. “But the only explanation we can see for this lifeform’s disappearance, is that it is somewhere here on your ship.”

 

There’s a long silence. Victor’s heart is beating very hard in his chest. He’s trying to arrange his face into something like puzzled curiosity. But he knows his shoulders are too tight, his back too straight, and the way Doctor Howard is gazing at him tells him the Doctor knows everything there is to know about what’s going on in Victor’s head.

 

“I’m afraid you’re mistaken, Doctor,” Victor says eventually, deciding that there’s nothing for it but to outright lie. If Doctor Howard has a warrant for Yuuri, then he can’t stop him from taking him. But he can’t have a warrant to search a military ship just lying around. “We have taken in no lifeforms that I know of.”

 

Doctor Howard’s face breaks into a grimace, any semblance of politeness falling away for a moment before he struggles to regain his composure.

 

“Ah,” he says, tugging slightly at the collar of his lab coat. “Well then. Apologies if I don’t take your word for it, Captain, but have you done a full sweep of the ship?”

 

“A sweep?” Victor asks, slightly wrong-footed. He’d been expecting an outright accusal of a lie from the Doctor.

 

“Yes,” Doctor Howard goes on. “You see this creature’s clever. From what we’ve observed, they have possibly the same cognitive capabilities as we do. This does not deter from their natural violence, but rather makes them all the more dangerous. They of course have none of the human emotions that make them potential allies for our race. They lack compassion, empathy, and a number of other emotions that makes them really no more important than say... a house-cat.”

 

Victor sees Yuuri’s fond expression as he looks down at him, the acknowledgement of his crew’s loyalty as Yuuri holds back from outright killing them all. As Victor’s just now finding out he could have done.

 

“That is concerning, Doctor,” Victor says after a beat, reassessing the Doctor’s ship, how big it is, how many armed men he could have on board. “We will of course do a full sweep if you think there is some way this lifeform could have made it on board. I will say that we are heavily shielded though, it is unlikely anything made it through our barriers.”

 

“Well,” Doctor Howard says, smiling at Victor in a way that makes his skin crawl. “That certainly puts me more at ease over the safety of your crew. However, we will of course be permitted to stay with the Starship Neuro as you make your assessment?”

 

“Of course,” Victor says, dipping his head. Then he hesitates before —

 

“May I ask what you do with these lifeforms you find?” Victor asks, trying to sound nonchalant. “We have our own science crew on board, exploration and discovery being a large part of what we do.”

 

“Well I can’t share the details,” Doctor Howard says, which he’s clearly thoroughly enjoying lording over Victor. “But we observe. Take samples.”

 

“Samples?” Victor asks, his stomach rolling over in a thoroughly unpleasant way.

 

“Of course,” the Doctor says, looking puzzled. “Standard procedure for many new lifeforms.”

 

Victor feels sick.

 

Surely the council wouldn’t stand for this. They couldn’t condone… Victor thinks back, to records of what it was like when humans were first meeting intelligent alien species. Whilst there had been peaceful meetings in some cases, there had been clashes in many. And that’s not even starting on the types that don’t communicate the same way, that humans had to go the extra stretch to understand. He thinks of the nueminei, a name given to the race by humans, because their language doesn’t use words. In fact, humans didn’t think they communicated on an intelligent level at all. Their complex hive mind was overlooked, their customs ignored, and their resource rich planet plundered. Nuemin is now a protected planet, its people given special privileges. Humans can’t visit Nuemin without the proper permissions. That didn’t stop a bunch of nueminei being massacred even when the Council had realised their mistake. All that red tape and bureaucracy cost lives.

 

Victor covers for the way his hands have started shaking by standing.

 

“Well we’ll be sure to do a full sweep of the ship for you, Doctor. But now I’m afraid I must return to my duties. Seung-Gil here will see you to your transport.”

 

The Doctor nods, standing also as Seung-Gil comes around to lead him to the door. Victor doesn’t miss the curious glance his Chief Science Officer throws him behind the Doctor’s back, but there’s nothing he can say now.

 

When the door slides shut behind the pair of them, Victor sinks back to sit against the edge of his desk. His head is thudding. He doesn’t know what to do with all the information he was just handed. He trusts Seung-Gil to have the intuition to keep it to himself for now, but he doesn’t have a plan beyond that.

 

Doctor Howard’s ship is under military orders. _His_ military. Victor would be in direct defiance of his duties if he doesn’t hand Yuuri over to the Doctor. He’d be worse than a deserter. He’d be a traitor.

 

But _Yuuri._ He sees him, scared, lashing out, and still holding back. And he sees the Doctor again, telling him that Yuuri has no human emotions, is less than a house-cat. The Doctor is after all, a scientist. Victor knows all too well what his mission will be in concerns to Yuuri. How those ‘samples’ will be taken. And it doesn’t look like Yuuri would be kept alive for it either. Not if he’s dangerous.

 

Victor takes a shakey breath, and looks around his office. It’s nice really, lacking colour other than the gentle pink light cast up onto the long stretch of wall to his right. It’s soothing.

 

Victor takes another breath, and decides.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri is sat on the operation table when Victor enters the medbay. His mouth is open as Doctor Altin examines it with his latex-covered fingers, and Yuuri's looking as though the only reason he’s not biting those fingers off is because Phichit is playing with his hair.

 

“And Yuri here is the Assistant Chief Security and Tactical Officer, very young for his position too, we’re all very impressed by baby Yuri,” Phichit is saying as he twists locks of Yuuri’s hair into little patterns.

 

“Hey!” Yuri says sharply, from where he’s leant against Otabek’s desk with his arms cross. “Where did baby Yuri come from?”

 

Mila is nowhere in sight, which Victor suspects means she’s deemed Yuri as capable enough or Yuuri as unthreatening enough, and found something else to do.

 

“Well now there’s two Yuris,” Phichit says, as though this is obvious. “We can’t call you both the same thing, it’ll get confusing.”

 

 _“I_ was here first,” Yuri points out, livid. “And we don’t even know if this pig is staying.”

 

Yuuri flashes Yuri a look that’s half offended, half deadly, but Yuri’s undeterred.

 

“We can just call this Yuri, Yuuri number two,” Otabek offers.

 

Luckily, his fingers are out of Yuuri’s mouth now, because the look Yuuri gives him could definitely maim.

 

“How about Yurio?” Victor suggests, making all of them jump and turn to look at him where he’s leant against the doorframe. “I think Yurio suits you, Plisetsky.”

 

 _“What?!”_ Yuri hisses, and looks like he’s about to go into full scratchy, angry cat mode, but then Otabek lays a hand on his arm.

 

“I’ll still call you Yuri, even if the Captain has a new name for you,” he says the last in a way that’s clearly meant to remind Yuri who he’s talking to. But Victor’s pretty sure Yuri deflates because of Otabek’s effect on him rather than Victor’s.

 

“Well I guess if you still do,” Yuri mutters, scowling. “I don’t care about these other idiots.”

 

“Aw, Yurio!” Phichit trills, looking delighted as he hops down from behind Yuuri. “You’re finally talking about your feelings!”

 

“Shut up! I will kill you!”

 

Victor ignores the argument as he approaches Yuuri instead. Yuuri’s eyes flick up to his, and then he looks quickly down, fiddling with his colourful dress as his mouth twists into something like a smile.

 

“How’re you feeling?” Victor asks gently, coming to lean a hip on the table next to him.

 

Yuuri’s cheeks have gone slightly pink, and from this close Victor can see what Phichit meant about Yuuri’s skin. He practically glows.

 

“Okay I guess,” Yuuri mumbles, and Victor wonders what happened to the confidence bordering on murderous that he’s seen.

 

“Really?” Victor prompts, resisting the urge to tuck a finger under the other man’s chin and tilt his face up.

 

“Well my head hurts,” Yuuri says after a beat. “Doctor Altin says I have a concussion. He said I shouldn’t be alone or sleep.”

 

Victor feels like it’s a physical effort to stop the way his thoughts run away with that sentence, but he manages it, pasting on a gentle smile.

 

“Of course,” he says. “We’ll have someone with you at all times. And we’ll set up somewhere for you to stay so you can recover properly.”

 

“Thank you,” Yuuri half whispers, but when he glances up, Victor is surprised to see conflict in his eyes.

 

He thinks he might know what it is about though. If Doctor Howard’s crew has been pursuing Yuuri for weeks, his impression of humans can hardly be a positive one.

 

This is why Victor has to force himself to say the next sentence.

 

“Yuuri,” he says gently. “I’m afraid I still have some questions for you.”

 

Yuuri looks at Victor properly then. There’s something like fear in his eyes again, and he searches the Captain’s face, slightly frantic.

 

“It’s alright,” Victor assures him. “It can be just you and me. And you don’t have to answer anything you don’t want to.”

 

This would not be usual military procedure for persons of potential threat, but clearly if Victor’s going to do this, he’s going to go the whole hog.

 

After a moment, Yuuri nods, and Victor feels a wave of relief. He can make a plan, he can keep Yuuri safe that much more easily if Yuuri trusts him.

 

“Good,” Victor sighs, his chin dipping towards his chest, suddenly feeling drained. “Good. Well if Doctor Altin is happy to release you, I’d really like to do that now.”

 

The other three, who have been chatting and bickering by Otabek’s desk, turn at that. Apparently they weren’t as oblivious to his and Yuuri’s conversation as they’d been pretending to be.

 

“I’m happy for Yuuri to go,” Otabek agrees, coming over to squint into Yuuri’s eyes one last time. “But he does have to be monitored. And I’m not keen on the idea of him sleeping yet. But if he has to, I’d like someone there with him at all times, waking him up every hour to check.”

 

“I’ll do it!” Phichit exclaims, almost barrelling Otabek out of the way if it weren’t for the Doctor stepping smoothly aside. “Sleepover, Yuuri! We can eat candy and watch the clips of that time Chris and the Captain got drunk.”

 

“Chulanont,” Victor says, in a tone which has the Pavlovian effect of making Phichit snap to attention fast enough for his heels to clack as they come together. “You are not under any circumstance to show that video to Yuuri.”

 

“Yes, Captain Nikiforov,” Phichit says, apparently full of remorse, but Victor catches the wink he throws at Yuuri.

 

Victor only rolls his eyes at this, and helps Yuuri to his feet.

 

“How’s gravity treating you?” Victor asks as they leave the medbay.

 

“It’s okay,” Yuuri says, giving Victor a shy smile. “It’s just odd. Takes a moment.”

 

“That’s alright,” Victor assures him, not feeling sorry at all for an excuse to wrap his arm around the very pretty man’s waist. “It’s like sea legs, you’ll find them eventually.”

 

“...Sea?” Yuuri asks, looking blankly up at him.

 

“Yes, it’s…” Victor starts then stops, blinking. “You’ve never seen a sea?”

 

“No,” Yuuri says, shaking his head, his lip twisting slightly in worry. “Is that bad?”

 

“No,” Victor says automatically, anything to take that concern out of Yuuri’s expression. “No, it’s just… I’m surprised your planet doesn’t have seas. Or maybe you call them something else, I don’t know how this language thing of yours works.”

 

Yuuri just hums and looks away, apparently not wishing to continue the conversation. They fall silent as they get into the lift to take them back up to Victor’s rooms.

 

Moments later Victor can be found dying at the sight of Yuuri curled up on his couch, his hands cradling a mug of hot chocolate like it’s the best gift he’s ever been given.

 

“It’s like… fizzing on my tongue,” Yuuri says, his nose scrunching up as he tries to find the words for the taste. “But soft. Like solar winds with cloud bits.”

 

“Cloud bits?” Victor asks, momentarily distracted from the downright adorable sight of Yuuri chasing a bit of chocolate on his upper lip with his tongue.

 

“Yeah,” Yuuri says, turning to blink at him. “From planets. You’ve seen it right?”

 

“You mean _asteroid belts?”_ Victor says, incredulous. “Yuuri, have you been through asteroid belts?”

 

“Well, yeah,” Yuuri replies, looking worried again. “They’re good for resting. And fun to play in.”

 

“Fun to play in…” Victor repeats faintly. “No wonder you got injured.”

 

Yuuri just hums at this and takes another sip of his hot chocolate. Victor forgets his horror over the sight of Yuuri looking so pleased with his drink again. He hates to break the peace.

 

“So, Yuuri,” he starts, wondering how he can soften his line of questioning when Yuuri’s finally looking comfortable. In Victor’s living quarters of all places. “How _did_ you get injured?”

 

Yuuri lowers his mug back into his lap. He stares at it so mournfully that Victor wants to take back his question.

 

“Okay,” Victor says slowly. “It’s okay. What if I told you that you didn’t have to worry about another ship taking you away from us?”

 

Yuuri looks up so quickly Victor thinks he heard his neck click. Yuuri doesn’t seem to notice, he’s too busy staring at Victor wide eyed. His knuckles have gone white where he’s gripping his mug.

 

“Hey,” Victor murmurs, shifting closer.

 

Yuuri doesn’t flinch back, but he doesn’t relax either. He just keeps on giving Victor that deer in the headlights look.

 

“Look,” Victor starts, “if I’m going to break protocol and commit an act of treason I may as well go all out, and tell you what I know before you tell me what you know. Because I don’t believe you’re bad, Yuuri, no matter what that Doctor says.”

 

If Victor thought this would comfort Yuuri, he was sorely mistaken. Suddenly there are tears in Yuuri’s eyes. They’re bright pearlescent things, that roll down Yuuri’s cheeks like liquid diamond. Victor is so taken aback by the sight of them that it’s a moment before he starts to panic about Yuuri crying. That quickly changes.

 

“Yuuri, no,” he pleads, edging as close as he dares and offering a hand out to Yuuri without actually touching him. He doesn’t want to end up pushing him away more. “No, no, no. I didn’t want to upset you. Shit. I never know what to do with crying people.”

 

Yuuri lets out a sob, and looks away, bringing a hand up to rub sharply at his cheeks.

 

“Would you like more hot chocolate?” Victor ventures, desperate. “Some tissues?”

 

Yuuri nods, not looking at him. Victor doesn’t know which option that was in agreement too, so he hurries off to get both hot chocolate and tissues, and brings them back to a Yuuri who has calmed down into some light sniffling.

 

Victor sits quietly as Yuuri accepts his offerings. This is difficult, but he’s one hundred percent certain that if he spoke right now he’d say the wrong thing. So he lets Yuuri dab his eyes in silence, and watches him resettle himself with his new mug of cocoa.

 

“That wasn’t your fault,” Yuuri says, after taking a few calming breaths.

 

His lips and eyes have gone puffy with the crying, his nose a little pink. It’s funny seeing these very human traits on one so ethereal as Yuuri. He’s so much _more,_ so indescribably beautiful, that it takes Victor from a whole new angle of surprise to see these things.

 

“I just… I’m not as good as you think I am, Victor.”

 

And that’s the first time Yuuri’s said his name. Victor is weak with it. He has no idea why he’s so gone for this man. He didn’t think he was shallow enough to fall for someone without getting to know them. But there’s just something so charming about Yuuri.

 

“I’ve hurt people,” Yuuri is saying whilst Victor is having entirely off topic, inappropriate thoughts.

 

Victor quickly refocuses his attention, realising he’s not giving Yuuri what he needs when he’s baring his heart.

 

“I’ve done… things,” Yuuri whispers, quiet enough that Victor almost misses it.

 

“What things, Yuuri?” Victor asks, and he does slide his hand over to touch him now, sensing it might be okay.

 

Yuuri stares at the hand on his wrist. He twists his own hand to take it. Then he looks up at Victor.

 

“I’m a siren.”

 

If Yuuri thought this was going to be a bombshell, he is sorely mistaken. Victor gazes at him, uncomprehending. His mind is flicking over images of mermaids, manatees, and briefly a flashing alarm. None of this applies to Yuuri, obviously, so he just sits there, staring at him and waiting for him to go on.

 

Yuuri’s mouth opens, unsure, his eyes flicking between Victor’s.

 

“You have no idea what I’m talking about,” Yuuri says slowly, his grip loosening on Victor’s hand.

 

It’s true Victor doesn’t know what Yuuri is talking about, but he does know he doesn’t want to him to let go of his hand.

 

“Then tell me,” Victor coaxes, giving Yuuri’s fingers a little squeeze. “I’m listening.”

 

Yuuri takes a few deep breaths, his gaze still searching Victor’s face.

 

“It’s still unbelievable,” Yuuri murmurs, apparently to himself. “What I saw in your mind. That you won’t hate me for this.”

 

“Of course I won’t hate you,” Victor says quickly, not knowing what he’s agreeing to but knowing that much is true.

 

“That’s the only reason I’m telling you,” Yuuri agrees, eyes still glassy. “Otherwise it’d be dangerous. For both of us.”

 

“Yuuri, you have no idea the risks I’m already taking here,” Victor half laughs.

 

Yuuri bites his lip, which is of course very distracting. Then he sighs.

 

“Okay,” he concedes, shifting on the couch to sit up straighter. “Okay. Sirens are exactly what you think they are. It’s the best word for us in your language. We hunt ships. And we tear them out of the sky.”

 

Victor can’t say he’s surprised exactly, not after what Doctor Howard said. But for one odd moment he is impressed. He makes himself reevaluate this information, see it from an unbiased point of view. Of course an unbiased point of view would be horrified. Yuuri would be enemy number one, everything the fleet fights against. But he’s Yuuri, and Victor can’t help but feel there’s more.

 

Victor runs his free hand through his hair. He can feel Yuuri watching him.

 

“Right,” he says after a long while. “Okay… Well it’s a bit bigger than I expected if I’m honest. A lot more murder. That’s… that’s — yeah.”

 

“I’m so sorry,” Yuuri half sobs, wrenching his hand from Victor’s.

 

He stands, and Victor feels his heart go with him.

 

“This was a terrible idea,” Yuuri says, pacing now, his skirts rising up around him to drift back and forth with his movement. It’s captivating. “I’m only just starting to understand… you’re all so _nice.”_

 

Yuuri turns and stares at Victor for a long moment. Victor shifts, unsure of himself under the intensity of Yuuri’s gaze.

 

“But you’re not all like you,” Yuuri muses slowly, something desperate in his tone as he draws closer. “Are you?”

 

Victor considers this for a moment. Thinks of the human race and what Yuuri’s done to those ships.

 

“No,” he says eventually, dipping his head, wondering if this makes him a traitor in a whole new way. “Some of us are very bad.”

 

Yuuri releases a long sigh, smoothing his hands down the folds of his dress as he closes his eyes. Victor watches him, how he draws himself together.

 

“Okay,” Yuuri decides. “That’s okay… because I’m not the only one who’s hurt people.”

 

He’s flashes Victor a challenging look then, daring defiance.

 

“Your lot blew up —”

 

And Yuuri says a word that Victor can’t think how to put into letters. It’s like the sharp words he spoke when they first bought him on board, full of short corners and soft dips.

 

“What is… that?” Victor asks, deciding that he’s not even going to do the language the disjustice by trying to say the word.

 

Yuuri looks mournful for a moment, and he comes back over to the couch and sinks down next to Victor.

 

“It was a good nursery,” he says, and there are tears in his eyes again. “The rocks were just the right size so they could learn how to fly.”

 

Victor’s heart stops.

 

“Oh, Yuuri.”

 

Victor knows that an apology from him won’t cover it, can’t undo what his kind have done to Yuuri’s. He knows now, why Yuuri desperately needed the validation that not all humans are like Victor.

 

“I think your kind wanted to make… a highway? Is that what it is? Lots of ships going through.” Yuuri plucks at his skirts in a lacklustre sort of way.

 

And Victor just wants to wipe that look from his face.

 

“Yes,” he agrees, “that’s a highway. We have a few set courses between galaxies.”

 

Yuuri nods. Then smiles in a sharp, mournful way.

 

“Well it certainly made for easy pickings.”

 

And he looks beautiful and deadly in that moment. Victor aches for him.

 

Then he has to ask the question again, can see the full picture but needs to know where to go from here.

 

“How did you get injured, Yuuri?” he asks, soft but insistent.

 

Yuuri looks up, and smiles sadly at him.

 

“Your kind,” he says. “A group of them. Chased me for a long time, I got hurt, but then got away. I must have passed out afterwards. I don’t remember.”

 

“Right,” Victor says, then, not wanting to alarm Yuuri, he thinks about how to phrase the next part.

 

“I need you to know I’m not going to give you to them,” Victor starts, gazing into Yuuri’s eyes, hoping he believes him. “But they’re here.”

 

Yuuri starts, his head whipping around to check the room, as though the Doctor and his crew are going to spring out from behind Victor’s coffee machine.

 

“No, they’re on their ship,” Victor explains, taking Yuuri’s hand again so he can get through the next bit. “But they’ve asked for my help in finding you. I told them I’d never seen the lifeform they were referring to.”

 

Yuuri is breathing heavily, looking on the verge of some sort of panic attack.

 

“Yuuri,” Victor implores. “Yuuri, I’m not going to give you to them.”

 

“You’re not?” Yuuri says, his breaths still sharp, eyes wide.

 

“No,” Victor says, shaking his head with a little smile. “I’ve met the Doctor. He’s not like Doctor Altin or Sara, they take care of people. Doctor Howard… well he seems set on experimenting on them.”

 

Yuuri presses a shaky hand to his lips, his chin dipping towards his chest.

 

“Others have been taken,” Yuuri whispers after a moment. “We didn’t know what was happening to them.”

 

“Well it looks like Doctor Howard has been collecting,” Victor says, pinching the bridge of his nose because apparently this is worse than he thought. “I don’t know all the details, but I know it’s partly to find out more about you. Observe the species they discovered. I’m not sure they’ll keep you alive for that observation if they think you’re dangerous, Yuuri.”

 

It’s a hard truth, but from the sound of it, Yuuri’s been facing it for weeks. He nods, defeated.

 

“There’s more than just one ship,” Yuuri says then, and isn’t that just fantastic news. “They have a little… fleet? Smaller ships with them. I think some of our kind did damage to their big one when they first started, so now they’ve bought more.”

 

Christ, of all the shitty luck, Victor thinks. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to think.

 

Those ships are no doubt on their way too, it’s not clear why they’re not here yet, maybe they’re slower than the Doctor’s ship. Which had clearly peeled away in pursuit when Yuuri got injured.

 

“If it helps,” Yuuri says, and Victor looks up to see he’s been watching him. “I took out a few of those smaller ones.”

 

“You…” Victor starts, then he breaks into a grin. “You’re really something you know?”

 

Yuuri laughs. It’s like bells, broken icicles tinkling to to the ground.

 

“I don’t think that’s the reaction you’re supposed to have to that,” he says, and they’re grinning at each other, and God it’s good.

 

* * *

 

Phichit Chulanont comes to collect Yuuri a few hours later. Victor has spent this time making sure Yuuri is relaxed as possible, whilst delegating his own responsibilities to Chris through his comms. This is why when Phichit is called through, he ducks into Victor’s living room to find Yuuri still curled up on the couch, now with a blanket over him and watching footage of figure skating routines.

 

At first, Yuuri had been so distracted by the display of lights on the screen, that he hadn’t noticed what was going on. Apparently electricity looks very impressive exploding out of a ship in space, but that fails to capture the fun little things it can do. Now Yuuri’s hooked. He loves figure skating.

 

“Showing him some of your favourites, hey Captain?” Phichit asks, looking far too delighted by the scene he’s stumbled upon.

 

Victor, hearing the tease in Phichit’s voice, scowls at him from where he’s sat at the other end of the couch working through documents on a lap-holo.

 

“Phichit,” Yuuri says, with a warmth that instantly makes Victor a little jealous. “They can fly like I do, but in gravity!”

 

At this point Yuuri stands, the blanket falling away as he sweeps into the clear space between him and the larger holo screen set into the wall.

 

“It’s amazing,” Yuuri says as he starts to move. “I don’t know how they do it. I can’t dance at all like this.”

 

Victor is sure he can’t be the only one whose jaw drops as Yuuri starts to dance, but suddenly he’s aware of nothing else.

 

Graceful doesn’t really cover what Yuuri encompasses when he dances. His skirts swirl up around him, floating easily through the air to compliment the elegant twist of each limb. The lines of his body are highlighted, which are firm and powerful, whilst somehow remaining soft and curved. There’s an echo of something moving through water, slow with little flurries, caught in the current of Yuuri’s beauty. He a little nebula, a galaxy all of his own.

 

By the time he’s stumbled to a stop, Victor’s lap-holo has slid off his knees to the floor.

 

“Hmm,” Yuuri muses, frowning at his feet. “I can’t do it right in gravity. Maybe I need skates too.”

 

He looks up then, and startles at the way Victor and Phichit are staring at him.

 

“Yuuri...” Victor starts, his voice rough.

 

“Yuuri, that was incredible!” Phichit cuts across him. “How do you move like that? And your dress!”

 

Phichit hurries to Yuuri’s side, gathering him excitedly into a hug. Yuuri looks taken aback, but rather pleased by this display.

 

“You _have_ to tell me what it’s made of! It’s so light. And where did you learn to dance? I want to hear all about your home planet.”

 

Yuuri stutters and flushes. He tugs at the halter like collar of his dress as he searches for words.

 

“I don’t really have a planet,” Yuuri says eventually. “Not a real one.”

 

“Oh, Yuuri,” Phichit says, nudging him consolingly. “Even if you were born away from your kind’s home planet, it doesn’t mean that you don’t have one.”

 

“No, you don’t —” Yuuri looks conflicted.

 

Victor realises how much Yuuri’s revealed to him already, how much information Victor’s been trusted with. He stands.

 

“Phichit,” Victor says, addressing him by first name now they aren’t on the bridge. “I think what Yuuri needs is food and rest. I’m trusting you to find out what he likes and get it to him. But I think questions should wait for now, don’t you?”

 

Phichit suddenly looks sheepish. He turns back to Yuuri.

 

“Sorry, Yuuri,” he says gently, giving him a little smile. “I just got excited.”

 

Yuuri smiles back at him, and it’s so dazzling that Victor momentarily forgets his concerns.

 

“That’s okay,” he replies, taking Phichit’s hand to show he means it. “Do you want a sleepover now?”

 

“Yes!” Phichit exclaims, practically vibrating on the spot. “We can go raid the dining hall first and then bring our spoils back. Oh we can do a clothes swap!”

 

And with that, Yuuri is being swept out the room. Victor catches the grateful little smile he throws over his shoulder at Victor, and feels his heart warm.

 

This feeling fades, however, as Victor realises the mammoth task he has ahead of him. How to get round a military grade ship, and quietly deposit Yuuri somewhere safe without anyone noticing.

 

* * *

 

To say Victor is on edge would be an understatement. It’s late, and he’s sat in his office with his First Officer and his Chief Science Officer facing him. They’re at the little coffee table rather than around his desk, already having moved away from the prints he’s got laid out there. They’re sitting in silence, worn out from going round and round their options.

 

There had been some characteristically daring plans from Victor. These had been helped along to make them a little less mad by Chris. Only to have all of them shut down by Seung-Gil. Who knew committing treason would be so hard?

 

The ultimate hope of course, is that when Victor tells Doctor Howard that there have been no lifeforms found on board he’ll go on his merry way, suspicious but not an immediate threat. But Victor’s met the man and thinks he has the measure of him. The Doctor will not take Yuuri’s disappearance lying down.

 

“Look,” Victor says eventually, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, his head hung as he addresses his shoes. “Whichever way we look at it, the plan’s not going to be easy. We’re talking mutiny here. But we still haven’t heard anything from command yet, so my guess is that Doctor Howard has held off on reporting back that he’s tracked Yuuri to us. There could be a number of reasons for this, or I could just be getting my hopes up. What we need is to contact command ourselves, someone moral who we can trust, and persuade them that the mission they’ve assigned the Doctor is wrong. That he’s committing murder. But this will all be easier without the overheads watching us. We need to accept the risk that they won’t listen, or the laws will go through too slowly to save Yuuri and others. We need to get him to safety before command gets involved.”

 

“Question,” Seung-Gil says, holding a finger up. “Does Yuuri eat humans?”

 

Victor stares at him, stunned.

 

“I don’t — I hardly think that matters,” Victor manages to choke out.

 

“On the contrary,” Seung-Gil says, raising an eyebrow at him. “I think it matters very much if Yuuri eats men.”

 

At this, Chris bursts into a peel of laughter. Victor shoots him a scathing look.

 

“Oh come on,” Chris says, rolling his eyes. “You can’t begrudge me that one. I didn’t even have to work for it.”

 

Victor sighs, and flops against the back of his seat.

 

“I don’t know what he eats,” Victor says honestly. “He likes hot chocolate.”

 

“And how would you know that, Victor,” Chris teases. “Been getting cosy?”

 

“Chris, really,” Victor huffs. “I am trying to plan a life threatening mission here.”

 

“Which is why _I_ am taking it upon myself to lighten the mood.”

 

They fall silent again, though Chris is still smirking.

 

“Can we just…” Victor sighs eventually, “sleep on it? We should have that long at least.”

 

“Sure,” Chris agrees, standing. “As long as you admit in the next meeting that you’re a giant gay mess and I never have to listen to you about anything.”

 

Victor can only press his fingers hard into his eye sockets until he sees spots. He hears Chris and Seung-Gil leaving, but sits there for a few moments more, stewing.

 

Eventually, he gets to his feet. His grey uniform is crumpled and he knows his hair must be a complete mess from how he’s been running his hands through it. But he goes to the door and exits out into the corridor anyway.

 

Victor straightens himself best he can as he winds his way through the ship. He nods at the very few people who are still up, trying to exude an air of calm. When he reaches his destination, he likes to think he’s managed to make himself look halfway decent. He knocks on the white door in front of him.

 

It’s a few long moments before the door opens, and the sleepy face of Phichit appears.

 

“Oh, hey Captain,” he mumbles, managing to suppress a yawn as he speaks.

 

“Hey,” Victor replies, trying to appear at ease and informal. “Sorry to wake you. I just wanted to check on Yuuri.”

 

Phichit breaks into a grin at this and nods. He steps to the side and Victor enters the room.

 

Phichit’s quarters are of course not as large as Victor’s. It’s really just one room, though a generously spacious one. Clothes are strewn over the couch where a lap-holo sits on one of the cushions. Phichit’s strung fairy lights up around a false window that imitates looking out onto the vastness of space, though Victor knows there’s other display options available. A light rustling comes from a cage on top of a chest of drawers, little nocturnal animals busy inside it.

 

And on the wide double bed in the corner, a figure is swaddled in blankets.

 

The sight of Yuuri in regular human pyjamas does something awful to Victor’s chest. He raises a hand to his heart, not realising he’s let out a little ‘ohh’. The siren’s face is slack in sleep, hair coming loose from its swept back style, pink lips slightly parted. It’s a few moments before Victor remembers they’re not alone.

 

He turns to find Phichit watching him with something suspiciously like glee.

 

“Very good, Chulanont,” Victor says quietly, trying to regain some measure of formality after his little display. “You’re waking him every hour as Doctor Altin advised?”

 

“Yes, sir,” Phichit replies, nodding politely even though there’s still a little curve to the corner of his mouth. “Have got alarms set so I can get some sleep too.”

 

“Thank you,” Victor says then. “It’s good of you, to look after him like this.”

 

Phichit waves this away. “Not at all. We’ve had fun.”

 

“Good,” Victor says. Then, regretfully; “I’ll leave you to it then.”

 

“Of course,” Phichit says, giving him a little salute. “Goodnight, Captain.”

 

“Goodnight, Phichit,” Victor says, softening his voice as he turns and takes one last look at Yuuri.

 

The siren is still blissfully unaware, lost in his dreams. What Victor wouldn’t give to keep it that way.

 

Then Victor turns, and takes his leave.

 

* * *

 

There is no time for Victor to have breakfast the next morning. He’s in his office scrambling together a report for Doctor Howard. This won’t be a formal report, as the Doctor doesn’t have permissions for information on a full sweep of a military vessel, but it needs to appear detailed enough to be unquestionable. It’s giving Victor a headache.

 

There’s a buzz at the door, and Victor calls out permission for entry. Christophe ducks in.

 

“So,” he starts, eyeing the papers scattered over Victor’s desk. “You’re making a report for the good Doctor?”

 

He swipes up one of the papers and skims over it.

 

“Really, Victor?” Chris sighs. “I don’t think Doctor Howard will need a full report on the chemicals used in our swimming pool.”

 

Victor snatches the sheaf of paper back, flustered and annoyed.

 

“I’m just trying to cover all the bases,” Victor huffs, sitting back down heavily. “Give him enough information to appear helpful.”

 

“You’re forgetting, mon cheri,” Chris coos, taking a seat opposite him, “that when people lie they talk too much. Over explain.”

 

Victor stops his frantic reshuffling of papers and looks up. Chris grins at him.

 

“You are the Captain of the Starship Neuro, no?” Chris continues, gently because he can see how frazzled Victor is. “If you say there’s no new lifeforms on your ship, then there’s no new lifeforms on your ship.”

 

Victor takes this in, running a hand through the silver fall of his fringe for the hundredth time.

 

“Yes…” he says after a beat. “Yes, of course. You’re right. I’m just…”

 

“Scared for Yuuri,” Christophe finishes for him, and fixes Victor with a look that is somehow both understanding and gently condescending. “We’ve got this, Victor. We may not have a full plan yet, but we will. The best thing you can do for Yuuri at the moment is to keep a cool head… when did you last eat?”

 

Victor thinks back, and realises with a lurch that he skipped dinner last night too. He suddenly feels very hungry.

 

“That’s what I thought,” Chris sighs, he rises and comes round to help Victor to his feet.

 

Victor’s about to complain that he doesn’t need help, but when he stands he does in fact feel a little dizzy.

 

At that moment, the door slides open. Victor has a moment to be annoyed at one of his crew members entering without knocking, but then he looks up and sees Yuuri.

 

Yuuri’s back in his colourful dress, his hair perfectly swept back and looking generally radiant.

 

“Oh,” Yuuri says, as he catches sight of Chris with his hand on Victor’s elbow, their hips pressed together. Yuuri flushes.

 

“Yuuri, hi,” Victor says, hurriedly detaching himself from Chris, who gives an amused little huff in response. “Are you okay? Did you sleep alright?”

 

Victor hurries to cross the room, but half way across it he starts seeing spots in his vision.

 

“Woah.”

 

It’s a half whisper as Victor stumbles towards a chair at the coffee table and sinks down into it.

 

“See,” Chris is saying, tone teasing yet exasperated. “I told you you need to eat. Stay there whilst I go get something. Yuuri, I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.”

 

Chris crosses over to Yuuri in a way that Victor’s trying not to think of as a prowl. He ushers Yuuri in from where he’s still standing in the doorway, before dipping low to kiss the hand he’s taken in his own. Yuuri goes even more pink in the face.

 

“Christophe Giocometti, First Officer to this anaemic idiot,” Chris says by way of introduction, before trailing his fingers lightly up Yuuri’s arm. “I must say, it’s really very charming to make the acquaintance of a siren.”

 

By this point Yuuri is stuttering and has gone rigid.

 

“Chris,” Victor sighs, unable to bring any force into his reprimand. “Leave Yuuri alone and go get me some food. That’s an order.”

 

He tags the last bit on when he catches sight of Chris’ hand starting to wander a little further than Yuuri’s arm.

 

Christophe releases Yuuri, who instantly takes a step back.

 

“Watch him for me will you, mon amour?” Chris says, winking at Yuuri and darting out the room before Victor can scold him again.

 

“I’m sorry about Chris,” Victor says, as Yuuri peels himself away from the wall he’s stepped back against. “He can be a handful. Please, take a seat.”

 

Yuuri crosses the room, his feet light and still bare. He comes and settles himself in the seat next to Victor, automatically bringing his legs up to curl beside him.

 

“Are you sick?” Yuuri asks, peering at Victor’s pale face with an intense sort of concern. Victor tries valiantly not to let this pierce his heart too deeply.

 

“No,” he chuckles. “I was just an idiot and forgot to eat… speaking of, have you found any of our food to your liking?”

 

Yuuri nose wrinkles, and Victor laughs.

 

“Phichit made me try lots of different things,” Yuuri explains, apparently relaxing slightly as he leans back against the seat. “I do not like fish. But fruit is nice, and meat is wonderful. Also I don’t know why you eat beans, their texture is very odd.”

 

Victor laughs again, and props an elbow on the back of his seat as he turns to face Yuuri properly.

 

“Okay, well I’m glad you like fruit and meat,” he says

 

“Raw meat,” Yuuri clarifies. “What Phichit tried to do to it was awful.”

 

“Raw meat,” Victor chuckles, but then pauses as that reminds him sharply of his next question.

 

“What do you usually eat?”

 

Yuuri shrugs, plucking at his skirts in way that Victor is realising is a habit.

 

“All sorts,” Yuuri says. “I saw from your head that humans think space is a sort of vacuum, but it’s really not. You talked about a sea, and I got Phichit to show me what that is properly, not just its meaning, and I think that’s the best way to describe space.”

 

“Like the sea?” Victor repeats, slightly surprised by this analogy but realising its not wrong.

 

“Yes,” Yuuri continues, looking eager to explain now. “Like those big stretches of blue you have and it seems like nothing’s in them, but if you look harder, you’ll find… plankton? And little communities of fish living of bits of floating… stuff.”

 

Yuuri finishes, then looks dissatisfied with this explanation for a moment, until Victor says;

 

“Like on flotsam and jetsam?”

 

“Yes!” Yuuri trills, pleased that Victor’s picked up on his meaning. “Exactly like that. Sorry, it’s hard to shift through it all at once.”

 

“Are you kidding?” Victor asks, incredulous. “You learnt our language in seconds, downloaded it like something from the Matrix.”

 

Yuuri’s face goes blank at that reference.

 

“I didn’t see a… a matrix,” he says, puzzled. “Not in that way, but I know what it means?”

 

“Oh so you don’t get everything?” Victor asks, immensely relieved by this.

 

“No, not at all,” Yuuri agrees. “It’s mostly just the language. And I picked out a few of your more recent memories to find out what you’re like.”

 

At this Yuuri blushes. Victor doesn’t know whether to be horrified by this reaction or endeared. He decides on the latter.

 

“Yuuri,” he weedles, “what did you see?”

 

“Nothing,” Yuuri says, too quickly. “I just… it’s odd seeing myself from another’s perspective. It never really stops being odd.”

 

“Oh,” Victor says, and then he’s flushing too, because he knows exactly what he thought when he first saw Yuuri looking at him with those big brown eyes. “Yes, that’s… well.”

 

Yuuri blinks shyly at him, and Victor’s relieved to see a little smile has worked its way onto Yuuri’s lips. He’s trying valiantly to suppress it, but Victor can see none-the-less.

 

Victor wonders for a mad moment what Yuuri would say if he proposed they took a quick trip in his cruiser, went and did a little stargazing together. This is of course impossible with things how they are, and it is perhaps a good thing that they are interrupted by Chris’ return.

 

Chris stays and chats with them while Victor eats, and they are soon joined by Seung-Gil. The Chief Science Officer has come to see whether they’ve gotten any further along in formulating a plan, and seems decidedly unimpressed when they say they haven’t. Victor’s just impressed that Seung-Gil’s so invested. He hasn’t seen him this interested in anything beyond his petri dishes since they bought back that new plant they discovered.

 

Soon after, Phichit comes bounding in, apparently looking for Yuuri.

 

“Are any of my crew actually at their stations like they’re supposed to be?” Victor asks, exasperated but undeniably fond as he watches the way the other three men have gathered around the siren.

 

They turn and blink at him in unison, and it only takes one firm look to have them springing into action. Yuuri gets gathered up in this mass exodus from Victor’s office, and Victor smiles as he sees him tripping along on the end of Phichit’s arm.

 

The silence is slightly startling after having the combined forces of Chris and Phichit in the room. Victor takes a moment to rearrange the papers on his desk and gather himself. He lets out one long breath, knowing that from his next move onwards, there’s no going back.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just realised, don't want to sound patronising but if you speak American-English, in England we call elevators lifts for short... ye.

The face of Doctor Howard flickers into view on the screen. Victor has arranged himself in his Captain’s chair, the perfect picture of authority as the round boyish face appears.

 

“Doctor Howard, good morning to you,” Victor says, friendly yet detached, his face a mask of commandeering calm.

 

“Captain Nikiforov.” Doctor Howard inclines his head. “Have you performed a sweep of your ship as I suggested yesterday?”

 

“We have, Doctor,” Victor replies, relishing for a moment in the disappointment the Doctor’s about to receive. “And I’m pleased to inform you that we have found no lifeforms like the one you described yesterday.”

 

The crew on bridge have been debriefed with minimal detail, but the ones who aren’t in on the secret can tell Victor is lying about something. They all saw what they bought in yesterday and they’re not stupid.

 

There’s a shift in the Doctor’s face. It’s almost imperceptible for a moment, but suddenly, there’s nothing boyish about him.

 

“I see,” the Doctor says, and his voice is the kind of icy calm that speaks of a deep, violent anger. “I am relieved indeed that none of your crew are at risk, Captain.”

 

“Yes,” Victor replies, and doesn’t know why he’s feeling such a growing sense of unease. “It was thanks to your suggestion that my mind could be put to to rest so quickly. I thank you.”

 

“Not at all,” Doctor Howard says, with a stiffness like steel. “Perhaps then, we can move onto my next request.”

 

Victor pauses. He’d been afraid of this. Any chance of the Doctor swallowing Victor’s lie and just going away is vanishing before his eyes.

 

“The details I relayed to you will have impressed upon you the dire need to collect the lifeform,” Doctor Howard says slowly. “As you know I’d like to keep said details limited over comms, but I would like to pass on my request that the Starship Neuro assist us in our search for the lost specimen.”

 

Victor’s heart is thudding in his chest. He’s thinking of the mission planning log — omitted to be suitable for civilian eyes — that Doctor Howard sent a request for yesterday, how Victor hadn’t been able to edit it in time, how it didn’t have anything booked but sweeps and data collection. Nothing like this. No direct orders.

 

“I will of course, be filing the request with command, and will await their agreement as well as your own,” Doctor Howard is saying, as Victor’s seeing any plans he started to form crumble.

 

Command will know. They’ll expect updates. The pretence of going somewhere on their orders vanishes. The need to take a distress call goes up in flames too, far too much paperwork to fake something like that. Victor’s going over his more mad ideas as Doctor Howard continues speaking.

 

“We have a course planned, thanks to our top scientists we’ve devised a really very effective way of tracking these creatures. I can’t go into the details of course, but we’d like you to follow along. We’ll shortly be joined by more ships, so you won’t be alone in your efforts.”

 

“More ships?” Victor asks.

 

He of course knew about the fleet thanks to Yuuri, but the Doctor’s not to know that.

 

“Yes,” Doctor Howard says, and his grin is wicked sharp. “You see we’ve been given really quite a strong backing, Captain. Command is under no illusions about how important this mission is. They know exactly the risks it entails, and the rewards.”

 

Victor shudders at the thought of whatever rewards the Doctor is referring to. Yuuri’s body dissected on a table most likely. Victor feels sick.

 

“Fantastic,” he manages to say, his voice strong despite how shaken he’s really feeling. His mask still hasn’t slipped. He’s too good for that. “I look forward to collaborating with a fleet again, it’s been a while for us.”

 

“Yes, I know,” the Doctor says, and there’s that grin again. “You’re really quite the lone wolf I hear, most impressive feats pulled off single-handed.”

 

“Not exactly. It’s really down to the excellent crew I have, but I thank you, Doctor.” Victor manages his own bit of obsequiousness without vomiting.

 

“Modest too,” Doctor Howard drawls. “But alas, I have to return to my work. I look forward to working with you, Captain Nikiforov.”

 

“Of course, Doctor,” Victor says numbly. “A good day to you.”

 

And then Doctor Howard’s face is gone, and Victor’s staring at the wide vista of space. There’s silence on the bridge.

 

Christophe’s voice brings him back round.

 

“Alright, back to work everyone, very good, Kenny you minx I can see you.”

 

Victor looks around, seeing his crew snap back to attention, only the occasional curious look being thrown over a shoulder at him. Phichit’s nowhere in sight. But Victor doesn’t have to wonder where he’s gone for too long, because next moment he’s reentering the bridge, Yuuri on his arm.

 

“And this is our shiny bridge,” he’s saying, beaming at Yuuri as the siren takes all this in. “All the action happens here, and you know not everyone’s allowed up. I’m guessing you are because you’re special. Hey, Captain.”

 

Victor’s already climbed down from his raised seat and is crossing to the pair.

 

“Yuuri,” he sighs, and it’s actually a relief to say his name, to know for sure that nothing’s happened to him.

 

“Hello,” Yuuri replies, and the smile he gives Victor is enough that his conversation with Doctor Howard goes flying out of his mind. Or near enough.

 

“I’m um,” Phichit says, his eyes darting back and forth between his Captain and the siren, “gonna get back to work. Just wanted to make sure Yuuri was okay, Captain. I’ll, uh, leave him with you then.”

 

Phichit gives an odd little salute, which seems to be his go to when he’s half uncomfortable, half thrilled and wanting to take a picture of whatever ridiculous thing is afoot. Then he darts away.

 

Victor turns back to Yuuri, his smile soft.

 

“Would you like a tour of the bridge?” he asks, offering his arm to Yuuri.

 

Yuuri clearly has guessed enough about human customs, or has similar ones of his own, because there’s a light flush on his cheeks as he takes Victor’s arm.

 

“So that’s where I sit, it’s a little higher up so I can see everything that’s going on, not because I’m more important or anything,” Victor explains as they start around the perimeter of the room.

 

“Aren’t you the Captain?” Yuuri asks, looking puzzled.

 

“Well yes,” Victor says. “But everyone is equally important. A captain is nothing without his crew and mine are the best.”

 

They curve round behind a huge holo screen, against which a few of his crew members are plotting out routes and marking out notable systems with specialised pens.

 

“This is where we plan and document our mission routes and discoveries,” Victor explains, watching Yuuri eyes track the way a cadet makes the image whiz past to another stretch of space with a flick of her fingers. “It gets fed to the navigation deck up front, and down to several other rooms, like the labs and the records room to process new information.”

 

“It’s pretty,” Yuuri sighs, his eyes on the colours of screen, gentle blues and pinks catching in the orbs of his eyes.

 

“Yes,” Victor chuckles, and tries not to be a walking romcom cliche as he thinks the same of Yuuri. “It is.”

 

Next it’s Mila’s desk, where Yuri sometimes joins her, though he is more often to be found darting around the ship on her orders. As he seems to be today.

 

“And here’s where our Chief Security and Tactical Officer sits,” Victor says, making the redhead spin around in her seat to beam at them. “Babicheva, I’m just giving Yuuri a tour.”

 

“I can see that,” Mila says, standing to clasp Yuuri’s hand in her own for a moment. “How’re you settling in, Yuuri? Your head okay?”

 

Victor feels a burst of warmth for her. She may be in charge of combat and have a tactical mind, but in person Mila is as friendly as they come.

 

“Yes, my head’s fine,” Yuuri is saying, shy suddenly. “And everyone’s been so nice.”

 

“I think that’s something to do with your innate charm, my dear,” Mila says, knocking a finger gently against Yuuri’s cheek. “These lot are a really hard work otherwise.”

 

“Mila,” Victor groans, somehow reverting back to fifteen years old under Mila’s teasing.

 

“Hush, Captain,” Mila replies, dealing him the barest of glances before looking back to Yuuri. “If you ever need some space from all these guys, come find me, hm?”

 

“Thank you, I will,” Yuuri agrees, a smile of his own gracing his lips.

 

Victor lets out a betrayed gasp.

 

Next they skirt round to where Christophe is overseeing what Phichit and Leo are doing. Yuuri hasn’t met Leo De La Iglesia yet, so Victor introduces the navigator to the siren.

 

Leo’s charming and friendly as ever, scooting over in his chair so Yuuri can see the display on his desk. Phichit of course wants Yuuri’s attention too, so soon he’s abandoned his own side of the desk and is leaning over Leo’s, pointing things out. Victor steps over to Chris.

 

“Have we fallen into a trajectory with the Orian?” he asks, his voice low as speaks of the Doctor’s ship. He watches Yuuri gazing at the display on the navigation deck, his eyes wide with delight as the colours reflect up onto his face.

 

“Yes,” Chris replies. “They sent their flight plan over to us. We don’t have much choice but to follow it for now.”

 

“Okay,” Victor says, trying not to sound defeated but see this as at least a little breathing room to think. “Let’s reconvene later, plan around this.”

 

“Of course, Captain,” Chris says, respectfully bowing his head just as Yuuri looks up.

 

He beams at Victor, and Victor can’t help but smile back, his heart aching for the siren.

 

* * *

 

“Okay so, if you had to pick, gummies or chocolate?”

 

It’s late. Wonderfully, Yuuri is stretched out across the length of Victor’s couch. His long, golden legs are thrown over the arm, dress slipping tantalisingly up his thighs and lean arms under his head. Admittedly, Phichit is there too, but it’s still a rather magical experience.

 

It’s rare for Phichit to be in this private area of Victor’s rooms. Whilst Victor likes the boy, he’s never been that close to him. It’s nice, like a little bouncy sunshine has entered his home.

 

“Chocolate,” Yuuri says, without much hesitation.

 

“Really?” Phichit asks, intrigued. “I’d have thought you’d go gummies with the way you went through the pack last night.”

 

The boy is sat at the other end of the couch, but has reached out to play with the siren’s hair. It seems to be his new favourite pastime.

 

“I like hot chocolate the best,” Yuuri says, and glances at Victor then, his eyes bright.

 

Victor smiles at him from where he’s sat in the armchair, his legs curled up and in casual clothing. Yuuri had made a big fuss when Victor had stepped out in a baby blue shirt, chirping happily about the colour and how it bought out Victor’s eyes. The siren had of course clamped up immediately afterwards, blushing furiously while Victor preened at the praise.

 

“Would you like some, Yuuri?” Victor asks.

 

He’s got his lap-holo open, but he’s not really doing any work. He’d insisted Phichit had done more than enough, and that Yuuri should come back to his room that night. Victor is sure the Officer saw right through his apparently altruistic offer, but of course Phichit agreed anyway. He’d just tagged along too.

 

“Yes please,” Yuuri says, sitting up with a smile.

 

“And you, Phichit?”

 

“Yes please, Captain,” Phichit replies happily.

 

“No need for that,” Victor assures him, turning to cross to the kitchen part of his open plan living area. “It’s Victor in here.”

 

“How about Vicky?”

 

“Too far.”

 

Moments later his navigator and the siren are practically curled around each other as they sip from mugs of cocoa.

 

“My Mum sings a song when she makes hot drinks,” Phichit is saying, “a tune to go along with the stirring.”

 

“Do you sing?” Yuuri asks, clearly curious.

 

“Not well enough for anyone to be left unscathed, but that never stopped me.” Phichit grins at Yuuri and takes a huge gulp of hot chocolate.

 

When he pulls the mug away he’s got a chocolate mustache which makes Yuuri laugh.

 

“How about you, Yuuri?” Phichit asks.

 

“Do I sing?” Yuuri says, an eyebrow raising in amusement. “Surely you know the answer to that with all your siren legends.”

 

“Oo so you do,” Phichit says, delighted as he scoots impossibly closer. “Show meeee.”

 

“Phichit,” Victor says sternly, because Yuuri’s stuttering again.

 

Phichit backs off.

 

“Maybe in the morning?” Yuuri concedes, probably because Phichit’s pulling the best goddamn puppy eyes.

 

“Okay!”

 

After that the pair finish their drinks with mellow chat. Victor can see Yuuri’s eyes getting heavier even though he’s still smiling sleepily.

 

“Alright,” Victor says when Yuuri’s empty mug starts to slip from his limp fingers. “I think it’s time to call it a night.”

 

Phichit whines and makes a big show of saying goodnight to Yuuri, so much so that Victor feels very much like a parent calling for bedtime. But eventually Phichit ducks out with one last kiss on Yuuri’s cheek.

 

Victor collects their mugs and pops them in the dish-steri, taking them out clean moments later. When he’s returned them to their rightful cupboard, he turns to find Yuuri curled up on the couch, chewing his lip. Victor goes to him.

 

“Hey,” he says as he settles down next to Yuuri, folding a hand over his knee.

 

Yuuri looks up and smiles at him, but his eyes are distant with worry. Of course, Victor thinks, he thought Yuuri had taken the news too well.

 

Earlier that evening, Victor had gathered his most trusted crew members in his office and laid out the facts for them. The group grew from Seung-Gil and Chris, to Phichit, Mila, Yuri, Otabek, Georgi, Sara and Leo. There’s enough of them that they’ve got the essential areas of the ship covered, and can direct the rest of the crew while keeping the mission under wraps. The less the crew as whole knows, the better. Victor can’t ask them all to risk mutiny. And when he does tell this small group, he gives all of them the option to back out. As he suspected, none accept.

 

Yuuri had taken the news that they were now part of the fleet searching for him surprisingly calmly, and had sat quietly throughout their discussions. They’d formulated a plan, or the beginnings of one, and Victor had been hoping that’d settle some of Yuuri’s fear.

 

Seeing the wobbly line of his mouth as they sit on the couch together, Victor knows he was wrong.

 

“How’re you holding up?”

 

Yuuri apparently has to take a moment to figure this new phrase out, or he’s just deciding how to answer, because he stares blankly at Victor for a moment.

 

“Okay…” he says then, but Victor can hear the shake in his voice.

 

“Yuuri, it’s alright,” Victor says, giving his knee a squeeze. “I’m here if you need to talk about it. I won’t push, but you can relax.”

 

Yuuri stares at him for a moment longer, then something in him sags. His shoulders slump, and he sways slightly where he sits. Victor is there, ready to catch him, guiding him forward to rest his head on Victor’s shoulder.

 

Victor hums and coos soothing words as best he can. Honestly he’s not brilliant at dealing with emotional people, but he knows the basics. He’s seen movies.

 

Yuuri gradually goes slack against him, relaxing into Victor’s gentle rocking, his back muscles going loose under the circles Victor’s hands are rubbing. When Yuuri’s breathing has totally evened out, Victor stills, and just holds him. It’s the first time Victor’s been allowed to.

 

Yuuri is warm against him. The line of his collarbone is pressed against Victor’s chest, his head heavy where it rests in the dip of Victor’s neck. Victor looks down to study the bare skin of Yuuri’s shoulder, how if he moves his hand up it’s like a pale star against a golden sky. Victor takes a deep, shuddering breath.

 

He wonders if this is part of all sirens’ charm. The singing, the dancing, and a gravity that draws you in until you’re being crushed under it, begging for the weight of it. But Yuuri is soft. And Victor would thank him for the suffocation. Would make his last breath an ode to Yuuri’s eyes, and the gentle curve of his smile.

 

And when did he fall this hard? In the hours that he’s known the siren, they have barely exchanged any personal details. The magnetism isn’t right. It can only be infatuation, brought about by trying times and a devastatingly pretty face. Right?

 

These are the things Victor is telling himself as he traces patterns with his fingertips over Yuuri’s shoulder blade. A lover’s touch, made in the gentle half light of his private rooms. Victor tries not to feel it so deeply.

 

Musing as he is, it takes Victor a little while to realise that Yuuri’s breathing has deepened to something slow and unaware.

 

“Yuuri?”

 

No response.

 

Victor wraps an arm more securely around Yuuri, and tips him back as he wraps the other under his knees and stands. The movement wakes the siren, but he’s clearly too gone for the usual embarrassment Victor is sure this would have elicited. All he does is snuggle closer to Victor’s chest and drop off again. Victor pines.

 

He passes under the open arch into his bedroom. Yuuri goes down onto the bed in a swirl of his skirts, like a petal in the wind. Victor frowns when he straightens, thinking of the pyjamas that Phichit had dressed Yuuri in.

 

“Yuuri?”

 

This gets a vaguely curious hum.

 

“Would you like some pyjamas?”

 

Yuuri rolls onto his side and winds his arms into Victor’s duvet, nodding and murmuring some sort of ascent. All with his eyes still closed. Victor turns and fetches a large t-shirt and sweats of his own and returns to the bed with them.

 

Yuuri has of course gone back to sleep in this time. Victor, fighting a smile, nudges him awake. Yuuri blinks sleepily up at him.

 

“What’s the matter, Vitya?”

 

Victor’s legs nearly give out at that. He stares at Yuuri, who yawns, hair in perfect disarray.

 

“How do you know that name?” Victor asks, getting past his almost stroke and coaxing Yuuri to sit up.

 

“Oh… it’s a… nickname? One of the things I learnt from you,” Yuuri mumbles, accepting the offered sleep clothes.

 

“Of course,” Victor replies, scolding himself internally for being so sentimental.

 

“Do you not like it?” Yuuri asks, looking up suddenly, more awake. “Sorry it just came out, one of the many words… I —”

 

“Yuuri, it’s fine,” Victor assures him, daring to reach out and brush strands of Yuuri’s hair back from his forehead. “Just haven’t heard it in a while. I like it.”

 

It’s easy for his smile to be convincing, and after a moment, Yuuri smiles back at him.

 

“Oh, okay,” he agrees, settled as he tugs at the collar of his dress. “Vitya.”

 

And his collar slips away.

 

Victor nearly chokes and sharply turns away. Yuuri makes a curious noise, but Victor’s too busy hurrying to the bathroom, managing to remember to grab his own pyjamas on the way.

 

When he’s shut the door behind him Victor sinks against it, eyes closed. He still has no idea how Yuuri’s dress works, but clearly it doesn’t need buttons. The collar had just come apart, the fabric slithering down to reveal a toned, perfect chest. The only reason Victor doesn’t have his face buried in it is because he’s barricaded himself in the bathroom. Like a reasonable adult.

 

Victor says a little prayer, wondering how he’s going to spend the night next to _that,_ and goes about his routine for bed.

 

When he returns from the bathroom, Yuuri is buried under the covers. He has them clutched under his chin and is gazing at Victor in concern, deep brown pools catching the light of the side table lamp.

 

“Are you okay?” he asks, as Victor slides in on the other side to him.

 

“Yes,” Victor replies, feeling calmer about the whole ordeal now.

 

Honestly, he thinks to himself, anyone would think he’s a hormonal teenager with the way he’s acting.

 

Yuuri rolls to face him and offers him a sleepy smile.

 

“Thank you, Vitya,” he murmurs, gathering the bedding closer to hug it.

 

“For what?” Victor says, setting several alarms as he speaks. Otabek said Yuuri should be fine now, but that they should still be cautious. “I don’t mind checking on you throughout the night. I’ll drop off again easily with how tired I am.”

 

“No,” Yuuri says, and his eyes have slid shut, voice distant. “For all of this. For everything you’re risking for me.”

 

“Oh,” is the only thing Victor can say.

 

Then he settles down next to Yuuri, curled towards him. Yuuri has already dropped back off. Victor watches him for a long while, the steady, reassuring rise and fall of his shoulder.

 

“I would risk it all,” Victor tells him then, while he can, while Yuuri can’t see his shame. “I don’t know why but you make me want to risk it all. Again and again if I have to.”

 

Yuuri only snuffles slightly. Which is… good. It’s good Victor can’t tell him. He’s going to have to say goodbye soon as it is. He can’t have this.

 

Victor lifts a hand and waves it to activate the light sensor. He’s plunged into darkness, and his heart sinks with it.

 

It’ll be okay, he tells himself, to the sound of Yuuri’s breathing. At least Yuuri will be alive and safe.

 

* * *

 

Leo De La Iglesia is a wonderful man.

 

Victor is thinking this as he watches Leo work, having heard the call he’d sent out that morning.

 

They’ve reverted back to an old, simple plan, but rejigged it. Slightly. Okay more than slightly. It’s no longer simple. But there’s really only one explosion so it’s not outrageous.

 

Guang Hong Ji is a student on the planet of Kirin-5. According to Leo, he’s smart, cute, and most importantly, loyal. The issue is that Guang Hong is a languages student, studying Interplanetary Relations rather than engineering or science. Which would be the preferred choices vis-a-vis the explosion.

 

He does however, have very rich parents and no issue with blowing up his custom cruiser in the name of justice. He just needs a little direction from Seung-Gil, who is in fact very good at blowing things up. Something up until now unknown, what with explosions on a starship being unadvisable.

 

It’s the good old emergency distress call. Except now with a real emergency, as command will be watching them.

 

The plan is to answer the call, which Guang Hong will make in a system devoid of other Space Fleet ships, and hurry to the rescue. Victor has no doubt the Doctor will follow, but their ship is faster. There is of course a chance the Doctor will remain to search the area to see if they’ve dropped Yuuri off there, but they’re having Guang Hong transport Yuuri back to Kirin-5 where he will hide him until things blow over.

 

Victor would be more worried about how much responsibility they’re giving Guang Hong in all this. He’s just a kid really. But he’s seen the boy’s family. In the sprawling scape of the known universe, it’s difficult for celebrities to be famous everywhere. But the family of Ji, they’re quite another matter. Old money made new by daring innovation, and made good by extensive philanthropy. The Jis had taken one look at the stars and decided they belonged to them. Guang Hong has plenty of resources.

 

They just have to wait for him to reach a suitably desolate strip of space nearby so there’s no risk of someone else picking up the call. Victor tries not to be too pleased about the extra time this will afford him with Yuuri.

 

Meanwhile, Chris and Sara are using all their connections in command to try and find a reasonable person to bring their issue to. They’re doing this quietly, not wanting to reveal their mission before Yuuri is safely out of the way.

 

Speaking of Yuuri, the siren is currently buzzing about the bridge. He’s still fascinated by the electrical lights, that or he just genuinely enjoys being around Victor’s bridge crew.

 

Yuuri’s presence of course means that Phichit is very distracted, but as they’re just trailing in the Orian’s wake, this doesn’t really matter. It’s not like Victor can blame the Officer either, his own eyes track the siren wherever he goes, and Victor’s usually near him rather than in his chair.

 

Victor’s now sure that the rest of the crew know what is going on. It’s hard to look at Yuuri and not see his inhuman qualities, and with the Doctor harping on about a lifeform for everyone to hear, he knows that they’ve all put two and two together. And word spreads fast on a lone ship travelling through the void of space.

 

But it’s good. Yuuri receives smiles and kindness wherever he goes of course. He unwittingly makes several crewmembers blush, and inspires such a strong instinct to protect that Victor’s glad they all know. It does of course put them all at risk of facing the wrath of the council if this goes south, but Victor’s hoping that since he hasn’t expressly told them they can feign ignorance.

 

“Vitya!” Yuuri trills, jerking Victor out of his trance.

 

He’s holding up Phichit’s wrist, which is putting a call through to Leo’s earpiece.

 

“You can speak to each other when you’re not together!” Yuuri’s telling him excitedly, and Victor knows now why Yuuri wanted to see Victor’s own earpiece. “This is amazing!”

 

Victor smiles at him from his Captain’s chair, feeling it warm his face and something deep down inside him as he nods. Chris sidles up to him.

 

“Hey, _Vitya,”_ he drawls, delight twisting his syllables in a way Victor does not like at all. “Are you not going to go see what your siren’s showing you, _Vitya.”_

 

“Oh shut up,” Victor says, shoving Chris’ face away from where he’s leaning over his shoulder.

 

Chris just chuckles, still looking inordinately pleased.

 

“Hey, Shitya,” Yuri Plisetsky snaps, appearing at Victor’s elbow. “Seung-Gil’s been trying to call you. Pay attention.”

 

Victor starts, and realises he’s left his earpiece out after Yuuri had wanted to look at it. He hurriedly puts it back in and returns Seung-Gil’s call.

 

“Finally,” the Chief Science Officer snaps when he picks up.

 

“Sorry,” Victor says, hurrying to get somewhere more private to take the call. “Where’re you up to?”

 

“I’ve got a lay out for a bomb that’ll go off with no risk to Mr Ji’s life if it’s placed right,” Seung-Gil reports.

 

“Excellent, Lee,” Victor sighs as he strides down the corridor.

 

He takes a corner and finds an empty corridor. He slips down it and pauses to lean against the wall.

 

“No doubt Leo will be pleased,” Seung-Gil is saying. “I thought he was going to pitch a fit when I suggested we blow up Ji’s ship.”

 

“Yes, I think he’ll have more peace of mind if he knows it’ll do no real damage.”

 

“Just a little,” Seung-Gil says drily.

 

“Okay I have to go,” Victor says, straightening back up and glancing over his shoulder. “Thanks, Lee.”

 

“Not at all, Captain.”

 

Back on the bridge Chris is teasing Yuri to distraction and risking getting his eyes clawed out, but at least Yuuri looks happy.

 

“Stop! You insatiable pervert,” Yuri is screeching, which is going ignored by everyone else as it is a regular occurance.

 

“I’m just saying,” Chris replies, only encouraged by Yuri’s outrage, “if you talked to the man, he might feel —”

 

Yuri takes a swing, which is intercepted by Mila and a stern warning from her.

 

“Now that’s grounds for a reprimand if I ever saw one,” Victor says, coming up next to Yuuri, who is watching this unfold with an expression halfway between amused and worried.

 

“Captain,” Yuri says, immediately falling into position with a short, irritable salute.

 

Victor likes Yuri. He knew him through Yakov back on Selene, his home planet. Selene is beautiful and terraformed, a conquest of Earth. This fondness and the boy’s talent is why he always overlooks Yuri’s short temper, which would usually have gotten the boy punished before now.

 

“Good thing Babicheva intervened,” Victor continues, then fixes Yuri with a cool, stern look. “I want no more of that behaviour on my bridge.”

 

“Yes, Captain,” Yuri mumbles, looking truly sorry now.

 

When Yuri turns to go back to his desk, Victor gives Chris a look too.

 

“What?” the First Officer says innocently.

 

“You know what,” Victor says, and he doesn’t let up even though it’s Chris. “Stop antagonising him or I’ll reprimand you along with him.”

 

“Ah but the petit chaton is so easy,” Chris pouts.

 

“I mean it, Giocometti,” Victor warns.

 

“Alright, alright,” Chris eases off, and goes off to do some actual work.

 

When Victor turns, he finds Yuuri watching him. There’s an odd expression on his face.

 

“What?” Victor asks, all of the ice gone from his voice.

 

“Nothing,” Yuuri says, in a tone which makes Victor instantly more curious.

 

“What, Yuuri?” Victor asks again, a sly smile breaking across his lips as he steps closer to the siren.

 

Yuuri twitches, but doesn’t step back. His cheeks are pink.

 

“It’s just,” he says, and then bites his lip. “You’re a good Captain.”

 

 _“Yuu_ -ri,” Victor says, thrilled.

 

He’s aware that there are people all around them, and he really should be getting back to work. But that pink dusting to Yuuri’s cheeks is irresistible. Victor wants to draw more of it out, see how far it goes down Yuuri’s chest.

 

“What?” Yuuri says, defensive and looking anywhere but at Victor. “You know you are. I’ve heard all about your exploits.”

 

“Please, Yuuri,” Victor purrs, laying a hand on his arm. “Tell me about my exploits.”

 

“Stop it,” Yuuri snaps, flapping Victor’s hand away and then putting his own over his face.

 

He mumbles something.

 

“What was that?” Victor asks, so close now that he can feel the heat of Yuuri’s body.

 

“I said,” Yuuri mutters, shooting Victor an annoyed look over the tips of his fingers. “That you take control very well.”

 

Victor is lost for a moment, and then it uncurls inside him. He might explode on the spot.

 

“Oh my god,” Victor says, his grin so wide he thinks it’ll split his face. “You think it’s _attractive.”_

 

“Shut up!” Yuuri hisses in perfect imitation of Yurio.

 

He darts out of Victor’s reach just as Victor goes to reel him in. This is fantastic information, a brand new goldmine of valuable Yuuri blueprints. Fuck, Victor thinks, the things he could do with this.

 

As it is he’s intercepted by Mila just as he’s about to go after Yuuri. Ah yes, work and stuff.

 

Still, the remainder of the day sees Victor flirt shamelessly with Yuuri until he’s a blushing, stuttering mess. The siren escapes the bridge with Phichit as soon as the Officer is free. But still it’s fantastic because now, Victor realises, in a way that he never dreamed possible before, Yuuri might just have a little thing for him too.

 

His antics do mean that Yuuri outright refuses to come back to Victor’s room later on when he asks. But while Victor’s disappointed, he has this bright, lovely little realisation to carry him through the night.

 

* * *

 

Leo gets the call the next afternoon.

 

“Guang Hong’s reached a suitable spot,” he tells Victor, having pulled him off the bridge and into the coffee area down the corridor.

 

They were joined by the rest of the Doctor’s fleet that morning, something Victor had been sure to distract Yuuri from by suggesting Phichit take him down to see Otabek for a check up.

 

“Fantastic,” Victor says, and tries to mean it.

 

He’s definitely not thinking about how this means the end of his time with Yuuri. That his heart is hurting so desperately he’s sure it’ll break. That it was definitely just a silly crush.

 

“He’s waiting to give the distress call at my say so,” Leo goes on, oblivious to Victor’s pain.

 

“Good,” Victor says, and makes himself think of the mission. “We need to alert the others, get everyone ready.”

 

“Of course, Captain, leave it to me.”

 

With that Leo salutes and takes his leave.

 

Victor spends a little while leant against the counter, listening to the clicks of the cooling coffee machine beside him.

 

 _Don’t do this,_ he’s telling his mind, which is desperate to make a spiral. _Don’t make this about you._

 

He pinches his arm, counts to ten, then snaps into action.

 

On his return to the bridge, Victor has to give the impression of his usual calm. He pushes back the sleek fall of his fringe and straightens his uniform. But Victor can’t help the slight twitch in his eye as he sees Leo darting around the members of their little mission group who are present.

 

They’ve been giving and receiving updates from the Doctor’s ship over the last couple of days. The Orian is a monster of a machine, and they chug along in its slow wake. Victor glares at it. He’s trying to analyse its design rather than panic over how big it is. This is easier said than done.

 

A little while later and Leo gives him a significant look and scratches his elbow. He’s made the call.

 

Guang Hong’s call pings onto Phichit and Leo’s deck.

 

“What’s that, Chulanont?” Victor asks, his eyes on the flashing red light but his mind deep in the ship where Yuuri will be sat on Otabek’s table.

 

“A distress call,” Phichit replies, tapping to enlarge the call onto the window screen. “From the Jen system. There are no other ships in the area, Captain.”

 

“Then we’ll have to take it,” Victor says. “Put a call through to the Orian.”

 

But at that moment, something purple streaks across the stretch of sky in front of them, and strikes the Orian with a shuddering blow.

 

“What the hell was that?” Chris yells.

 

And Victor’s at a loss, watching as another wave of light blasts through the air and crashes against the Doctor’s ship. Victor actually sees the Orian’s shields ripple.

 

But he’s seen light like that before, watched it fly over his head and send his crew sprawling.

 

No, Victor thinks, Yuuri what’re you _doing._

 

But then there’s a cry from his right, and Yuuri himself is bursting onto the bridge, flying across the room to slam into the front window. He lets out a broken shriek.

 

“Yuuri!”

 

Victor is by his side in an instant, followed closely by Phichit. Yuuri is hammering at the glass, jabbering away in his own language, his eyes wide with fear.

 

“Yuuri, what’s going on?” Victor asks, and grabs the siren, having to force him to turn to look at him.

 

“Minako!” Yuuri wails, and then lets out a sob.

 

“What’s a Minako?” Mila asks from where she’s joined the group in front of the window.

 

“I think it’s a who,” Victor says, as Yuuri’s already turned back to stare out into space, and now he’s looking too.

 

There’s a colourful speck in the void. It’s an echo of the moment Victor first laid eyes on Yuuri, how small he’d seemed, how bright. And there’s another now, floating out there, letting tremendous waves of power loose on the Doctor’s ship. Victor can’t help but feel a stab of satisfaction.

 

This is quickly gone however, as Yuuri wails and starts to hammer on the glass again.

 

“Yuuri,” Victor soothes, quickly grabbing his arms to restrain him from hurting himself. “Yuuri, stop. We need a plan.”

 

“I have to go to her,” Yuuri sobs, twisting away from Victor, trying to get back to the window. “He’ll take her, I couldn’t break it, and there’s others.”

 

Victor turns, and there are indeed other ships from the Doctor’s fleet rising up to greet what must be another siren. Victor looks, analyses, and decides.

 

“Alright battlestations, people!” he shouts, all pretence falling away as he turns to his crew, Yuuri still clutched against his chest. “We are not going to let the doctor take that siren. This is an order. We are to draw those fighters away from her by any means necessary. Does anyone have any objections?”

 

There’s a moment of ringing silence, everyone frozen as they stare at him. Victor stares back, his gaze ice cold, Yuuri still struggling against him.

 

“Captain,” Chris says. “I’m pretty sure everyone knows about our secret mission, and is with you on this one.”

 

“Then what the hell are they waiting for?” Victor hisses, turning his gaze on Chris.

 

Victor’s never seen his crew jump into action so fast. They spring to their stations, directives being tapped out, calls being made, and an alarm ripping through the air as the lights turn from blue to red.

 

This leaves Victor free to turn to the siren in his arms.

 

“Yuuri,” he says, low and gentle. “Yuuri, stop.”

 

“You don’t understand,” Yuuri says, managing to finally shake Victor off.

 

He steps away from Victor, but doesn’t return to the window, instead he’s edging backwards, towards the door.

 

“She came for me.”

 

Victor processes this information, sees the horror and the mourning on Yuuri’s face. And thinks he understands.

 

“She’s your partner,” he sighs, resigned as his heart breaks.

 

“What?”

 

This statement is apparently so surprising, that Yuuri forgets he was making an exit and stills.

 

“Your lover,” Victor repeats. “She came to save you.”

 

“What? Oh no,” Yuuri gasps, apparently filled with horror at the idea. “No, no, no. Minako is… she’s like family.”

 

“Oh,” Victor says, suddenly feeling a lot happier despite the situation. “So you don’t have a partner?”

 

“Victor this is not the time!” Yuuri half shrieks, and flees.

 

Victor curses, and turns to Chris.

 

“Giocometti, you’re in charge!” he shouts as he tears off after the siren.

 

“What?” Chris yells back. “Victor, we are going into _battle.”_

 

But Victor’s already streaked off the bridge, racing up the corridor in Yuuri’s wake. He has an idea where Yuuri’s going, and he’s proven right when he reaches the room where he and Yuuri first met.

 

Yuuri is flapping his hands in front of the landing dias. He looks like he’s about to throw himself bodily against it too, but then he spots a screen on the wall and goes to that instead.

 

“Yuuri,” Victor says, out of breath as he catches up to him. “Yuuri, you can’t go out there. They’ll get you too. You have to let us handle this.”

 

“She came for me, Victor,” Yuuri replies, and his face is set now, all hysteria gone from his voice. “I’m not going to let her die out there.”

 

“And you’ll die if you follow!” Victor shouts, and it’s loud enough that Yuuri turns to him, surprised.

 

“I can’t…” Victor breaks off, his head hanging. “Don’t…”

 

“Vitya.”

 

And it’s full of warmth now. Victor looks up. Yuuri’s bathed in the red light of their alert setting. His gaze is soft as he gazes at Victor. And it’s all there, laid out in Yuuri’s expression. Victor stares back into Yuuri’s eyes, and sees what this is, hanging between them. Close enough to touch, strong enough to drive them mad.

 

“I have never,” Yuuri says, voice full of feeling as he steps closer. “Met a mind like yours.”

 

Victor’s breath catches as Yuuri brings a hand up to cup his cheek. His chest is too small to contain this feeling.

 

There’s a distant boom somewhere, and the floor trembles with the aftershocks. They’ve engaged.

 

“I have never,” Victor returns, bringing his own hand up to lay over Yuuri’s. “Met _anything_ like you.”

 

And it’s Yuuri’s turn to gasp, surprise colouring his face. And did he really doubt? Could he not have known how Victor feels?

 

“Come back to the bridge with me,” Victor begs, even though he wants to lean in, see how much further they can take this thing that’s only just unfolding between them. Because he’s caught up in it, falling with Yuuri like a shower of comets, burning up on impact. But he has to save them first.

 

Yuuri starts to shake his head.

 

“No listen,” Victor’s talking quickly now, not letting Yuuri get his goodbye out. “We need to at least see. We can signal to Minako. We’re faster than those other ships, we wouldn’t have to engage at all, she can escape with us.”

 

“You’d give up your job,” Yuuri says, staring wide eyed up at Victor. “Your life. Everything.”

 

“As many times as you needed me to.”

 

There are tears in Yuuri’s eyes.

 

“I know it’s mad,” Victor tells him, just as another blast quakes the room around them, stronger than the last. “It’s only been a couple of days, we —”

 

“No,” Yuuri replies, shaking his head, the tears escaping down his cheeks now, iridescent and catching red light. “It’s really not mad.”

 

Then he tips his chin down, and leans his forehead against Victor’s. Victor closes his eyes.

 

“Okay,” Yuuri whispers, and Victor’s heart skips.

 

“Okay?” Victor repeats, looking up. But he’s already stepping back, pulling Yuuri with him.

 

“Yes,” Yuuri says, his face going back to serious. “Let’s escape together.”

 

They race back up to the corridor, their hands clasped tightly. When they make it to the bridge, Victor’s crewmembers are showing why they’re the goddamn best in Space Fleet. Fingers are flying over decks, every head down, Chris’ orders being carried out before they’re even finished.

 

“Officer,” Victor says, stepping up to where Chris is stood on the raised dais of the Captain’s chair.

 

Chris turns, looking ready to bark an order at him, but then he sees who it is.

 

“Thank fuck,” Chris says, and shoves Victor into the Captain’s chair.

 

He hurries off before Victor can say anything, and then Yuuri’s hand is curled reassuringly over his shoulder. Victor looks up at him.

 

“You’ve got this,” he says, like Victor hasn’t done a million crazy missions before now. “Let’s go get her.”

 

Victor grins at him, and turns to the screen.

 

He notes first how many of the Doctor’s smaller ships are still operational. He sees, with no small amount of pleasure, that they’ve put two out of action already. They’re private company ships, not military grade vessels with team’s like Victor’s running them. It’s no wonder they went down.

 

In fact, as they swerve and duck between them, taking down more as they go, Victor’s surprised any of them even managed to land a hit. Victor is giving his commands in a calm, carrying voice. His pulse is thudding a staccato rhythm, but if there’s one thing he can do, it’s this.

 

They’re racing towards Minako, back from where they’ve lead the other ships away. They’re being pursued, but the Neuro is fast.

 

Now they’re right on course for that colourful speck in the sky. Victor sees it shift, turn towards the approaching ship.

 

“Signal!” he bellows, and flashes of light burst from the front of their ship, a staccato pattern to make Minako pause, reevaluate them.

 

Victor sees her twist to keep watching them as they streak past her, leading the other ships with them still at a safe distance from her. And now they’re hurtling towards the monster bulk of the Orian.

 

“Hold!” Victor calls, his eyes narrowing as the wall of the ship fast approaches.

 

His chest is tight. He can feel his crew holding their breath, but they’re well practiced in this, hands at the ready.

 

They’re so close Victor can see the Orian’s shield, that subtle sheen. And that’s the ticket. It seems to race to meet them, growing bigger and bigger on the screen.

 

“Captain!”

 

“Pull up!”

 

And they swerve. Victor is sucked back against his seat as the g-force of their maneuver pulls against him. Yuuri’s hand has gone tight on his shoulder, his body straining to stay upright despite the counterbalances of the ship’s internal atmosphere.

 

Victor see two of the green lights being tracked on Mila’s screen blink out as they hit the solid shield, and she gives a cackling whoop as she punches the air. Victor is grimly satisfied, but there’s no time to bask in the small victories. They’re curving up and over, hurtling around back in the direction of Minako, only one ship still on their tail.

 

“Signal!” Victor shouts again, and a volley of lights blast out.

 

Minako must’ve seen what they just did to the Doctor’s ship and deemed them trustworthy, because she lets out a burst of light of her own. Not towards them, this is more like a message.

 

But another light responds. And this one blasts Minako until she’s engulfed in white.

 

Yuuri’s scream is like the shattering of glass.

 

“Mila!” Victor bellows, all bridge decorum forgotten. “What was the hell was that?”

 

“I-I don’t know, Captain,” Mila stammers, her eyes on the big window up front rather than her screen.

 

She hurries to turn back to it though, tapping away desperately. There’s silence as she works, and now the light has faded and his eyes have recovered, Victor can see a limp figure hanging in space. And it has a beam pulling it in.

 

“It’s alright!” Mila half laughs, the relief ringing through her voice. “Analytics says it was a stunner. Must be specially designed to capture sirens. No other reason you’d need one externally.”

 

It’s at that moment that Victor notices the lack of a hand gripping his shoulder.

 

“Yuuri.”

 

He’s already moving, rising from his chair and fleeing from the bridge. But it’s too late he knows, he was distracted, he didn’t realise quickly enough. And he’s always been able to keep a cool head in battle, but now Victor feels like with each step another stitch of himself is coming loose. When he reaches the landing bay, the great chrome dais is already in motion. And it’s sliding closed.

 

“No, no, no, no,” Victor repeats, over and over as he races to the dais and stands before it, staring at its surface like Yuuri will rise back out of it at any moment.

 

He can’t follow, he’s just a human. Just a lousy human, like the rest of his wretched race. Victor’s never felt genocidal before, but staring at the dais, where the first person he’s ever felt like _this_ for has disappeared off towards certain doom, Victor thinks he just might start to be.

 

He turns.

 

“Giocometti,” he says into his watch, heels clicking across the floor as he hurries up the corridor, away from the direction he came. “You’re in charge again, tell Babicheva to give them hell. Take that last ship out and then keep the Orian’s attention on us.”

 

“Where are you, Victor?” Chris’ voice is hard with an edge.

 

He sounds both distressed and angry. Victor can sympathise.

 

“I have to get Yuuri back,” Victor explains, stepping into the lift and jabbing at the buttons. “He’s gone out there, he needs help.”

 

“You’ll be undefended,” Chris says, his voice changing to one of disbelief. “Cruisers don’t have shields, Victor, this is _suicidal.”_

 

“You’re a good First Officer, Christophe,” Victor says, smiling as floors race past the lift’s door until it whooshes to a stop on the flight deck. “Best I could’ve asked for.”

 

“Victor…”

 

But Victor’s already disconnecting, dropping his earpiece in his pocket as he runs across the deck, hurried feet striking metal, sharp breaths striking lungs.

 

Then he’s throwing himself through the still opening door of his little two man cruiser. He slams on the button to close it and hurries to put his headset on as he gears up at the same time.

 

It’s not an easy take off. The ships still in motion, but the ejection of smaller vessels is designed to fling them far from the ship in the event of an emergency. Victor grabs his cruiser back from its trajectory, fighting against the momentum.

 

The cruiser shudders to a stop, then he’s turning, eyes searching as well as his dash.

 

He sees them.

 

Yuuri is throwing wave after wave of light at the Orian. He’s tiny against it, a colourful speck of pure beauty in the black. As Victor races towards him, he can see another figure in his arms, her skirts mixing with his. Victor’s heart clenches.

 

“Yuuri!”

 

He knows Yuuri can’t hear his shout, but he’s hoping the flashing of his headlights is reaching him. Victor sees Yuuri turn, isn’t close enough to see the confusion written on his face but knows it must be there. Yuuri stops firing.

 

But it’s okay, because next there’s a series of blasts as the Neuro goes head to head with the Orian. Victor turns as he catches the flashes in the corner of his vision, sees the Neuro soaring around the larger ship, no longer pursued and giving it all she can.

 

When Victor turns back, he sees Yuuri flying towards him. Victor accelerates.

 

They meet. Yuuri’s face isn’t confused like Victor thought it would be. It’s furious.

 

There’s a glint in his eyes that promises murder and each line of his body is taught, ready for battle. The siren in his arms is still unconscious, long hair trailing around her like seaweed.

 

Victor can see the difference in their dresses now. Yuuri’s has more shades of blue in with the other colours, where Minako’s has lilacs.

 

Yuuri reaches out, Minako still gently cradled by his other arm. His expression softens as he lays a hand against Victor’s windscreen. And smiles.

 

Victor is pressed against the screen in seconds, hand meeting Yuuri’s, nose inches from the glass. Yuuri’s smile widens, and Victor can only beam in response, helpless.

 

This is how stars die, is Victor’s only mad thought.

 

But then Yuuri’s looking around, analysing the cruiser. Victor waves at him, makes a questioning gesture. He’s vaguely aware that the battle between the Neuro and Orian is still raging, but he can’t pay attention to that now.

 

Yuuri holds out the limp form of Minako, and Victor understands. He settles back into his seat, actually doing his seatbelt this time, feeling honoured that he’s been trusted with this. He taps a few buttons, and a mechanic arm raises on from the side of the cruiser. It’s perfect, made for taking samples in conditions too rough for just a spacesuit.

 

Yuuri beams at him, and places Minako gently in the claw of the arm. Victor adjusts its grip, making sure she’s secure.

 

Then Yuuri drifts back to the glass, presses his hand back against it. Victor reaches out and does the same. Then Yuuri touches his other hand to his lips, kisses his fingers and lays them against the glass. Victor’s too pleased by the gesture to realise what it means.

 

Then Yuuri’s planting his feet against the glass, which confuses Victor for a moment, before Yuuri pushes off, hard.

 

“Yuuri!” Victor shouts for a second time, throwing himself forward to strain against his chest straps, watching Yuuri as he sours away.

 

He’s a stunning streak of colour flying through the sky. Directly at the Orian.

 

Victor scrambles to get his cruiser ready. He’s just about to punch it forward, before he remembers his unconscious passenger. Victor turns, staring wild eyed at the form of Minako, her limbs trailing and face hidden by her hair, the claw still clamped about her waist.

 

If he flies too fast he’ll hurt her as she gets pulled along in the drag. And if he goes slow but gets too close to the Orian she’ll be unprotected. He can’t just leave her floating here… can he?

 

Victor is so torn as he turns back to watch where Yuuri’s taking up position. He’d be betraying Yuuri’s trust if he just lets Minako hang. But his siren’s out there, facing down the massive ship, his shoulders thrown back, skirts billowing up around him. He is magnificent.

 

Victor decides.

 

He can’t betray him. He will stay here. He will watch this happen. He will fight every fibre of his being as he does nothing.

 

But then Yuuri lets out a wave of blue tinged light, and the Orian, which had been focusing on the Neuro, pauses its blasters. And Victor can’t.

 

He lets out his own volley of light, signalling his crew, desperately hoping they’ll see. They don’t, they’re too busy trying to draw the bigger ship’s attention back to them. Victor fumbles with his headset to send an alert through, then turns back to Yuuri.

 

Yuuri isn’t doing anything. He’s just hanging there in space. A constellation of stars between light years of nothing.

 

Victor wonders what he’s doing, why he isn’t attacking. But then the tractor beam opens.

 

Victor gives a shout as it lands on Yuuri, his figure just a silhouette within it. And he’s being reeled in, and Victor almost forgets about his passenger once again, but something catches his eye. He looks.

 

The Neuro is streaking towards him. They’re coming back for their Captain. They think he has a plan.

 

Victor doesn’t spare them more thought than this, he’s already looking back to Yuuri. And as he does, Yuuri’s body twists. And he’s dancing.

 

Yuuri is dancing, a moth caught up in a flame, a shadow against it. And he keeps going, even as he’s pulled along, closer and closer to the mammoth ship. Victor’s so caught up in it, that everything else seems to fade away. It’s like that time in his room, but a million times more, Yuuri in his element.

 

Then there’s a blast of light, and Victor nearly screams. But it came from Yuuri, and now there’s another, and another. Wave after wave after wave. And they’re hammering the Orian.

 

And hitting it.

 

“Yuuri…” Victor whispers.

 

Because the beam is a gap in the shield. And now Yuuri’s beyond even that, close enough to the ship to really do some damage.

 

The Neuro has reached Victor. But Victor drops his precious cargo, has time to see his ship send out its own beam to reel her in. Then he’s racing away. Towards where he’ll always want to be. Right next to Yuuri.

 

There’s more than the one explosion of their original plan. Yuuri is a brute force, an unrelenting tide breaking on sand. And the Orian’s suffering for it.

 

Victor gets the dancing now. It’s meant to enrapture, to bewitch and distract. Stop the gunners from firing on him before he can release his own weapon. And by that time it’s too late. Yuuri’s already taken out the blasters, buckled the ship.

 

Victor flies up next to him. He swoops into his field of view, catches sight of the way Yuuri’s lips are continually moving, letting out those words, the harbingers of chaos. They pause as the siren catches sight of Victor.

 

Yuuri’s eyes go wide, then immediately panicked. He slams into the windscreen. Chattering away rapidly.

 

“Wow, wow, it’s okay!” Victor says, holding his hands up and then pointing back to the Neuro. “Minako’s safe on board.”

 

Yuuri scowls at him, still looks suspicious. So Victor sighs, and gestures for him to follow.

 

Yuuri stays frozen for a moment, then turns back to the Orian, ready to continue the attack. Victor lets out a flash of his headlights.

 

Yuuri looks back to him, annoyed and in full battle mode. It’s glorious.

 

Victor shakes his head, and when Yuuri doesn’t react, points to the Orian and repeats the motion. Yuuri looks unsure. Victor can sympathise. It’d be nice to know the threat is neutralised.

 

But they need the Doctor alive to plead their case. Need whatever gruesome evidence is aboard that ship. And Yuuri’s buckled them, they can’t give chase in this condition.

 

Victor gestures calmly and succinctly until Yuuri relents. The siren drifts forwards, cocking his head as he passes Victor, as though to say ‘well? Are you coming?’

 

Victor grins. As if he would do anything but.

 

Yuuri flies alongside him on their return. It’s really very distracting. He’s always captivating, but in his true element it’s really very heady, living up to and going beyond every standard of siren there’s ever been. Victor’s smitten.

 

They swoop into the flight deck together, and Victor manages to look away long enough to see Yuri Plisetsky has come to greet them. Victor brings his cruiser in to land.

 

“— and just totally irresponsible, I don’t care how cool it was!” Yuri is screeching, as Victor’s releasing the door. “You could’ve been captured! Killed!”

 

Yuuri is standing before the angry teen, watching this display of pure loving fury with a fond expression. Then he reaches out and, in what Victor thinks is a more suicidal move than attacking the Orian single handed, ruffles Yuri’s hair.

 

“I like you too,” Yuuri tells Yuri, who’s been struck dumb but looks like he might explode any moment. “I’m going to keep you.”

 

_“Keep me?!”_

 

“Yuuri,” Victor breaks in, coming to stand beside him and wrapping an arm around his waist. So wonderfully easy now, to click together, share each other’s space. “We have to return to the bridge. Wouldn’t want to miss the opportunity to brag to the Doctor. Well, offer mercy, but mainly brag.”

 

“Of course, Vitya,” Yuuri agrees, and they continue on with Yuri spitting and hissing in their wake.

 

When the reach the bridge, they’re greeted by the sight of Chris in the Captain’s chair and a positively giddy crew. There are more people here than even have permission to be on the bridge, but Victor decidedly doesn’t care.

 

“Mon dieu,” Chris is saying, a shit eating grin splitting his face. “That does sound bad, I do hope we’ll be able to be of assistance, Doctor.”

 

“Assistance!” the Doctor shrieks, and Victor’s pleased to see that his blonde hair is sticking up in every direction, lab coat falling off one shoulder. “You’re the reason we’re in this mess, if you hadn’t committed outright treason, collaborated with creatures of the utmost filth —”

 

“Excuse me,” Victor says, and steps into view, chivvying Chris out of the way so he can take his rightful seat. “But I happen to think they’re really quite charming.”

 

“Nikiforov.”

 

It’s hissed with utter loathing. Which pleases Victor no end.

 

“Doctor,” Victor returns coolly. “I’m here to read you your rights.”

 

“My rights?!”

 

“You have committed crimes against a civilised people,” Victor says, ignoring the disbelieving way Doctor Howard repeats ‘civilised’. “You are suspected of having captured, maimed, and killed a race that we are only just discovering, have taken advantage of the fact there are no laws yet in place to protect them, and are facing the full wrath of the council when I bring this to them.”

 

“Nikiforov —”

 

“Are any of your crew in immediate danger?” Victor cuts across him. “Is your ship stable and do you have supplies?”

 

“I swear I will rip you from the skies myself,” is the Doctor’s response. “And when I grind you into the dirt, you’ll see that you’re nothing more than a pathetic pretty boy with an oversized ego.”

 

“I really don’t think you will,” Yuuri interrupts, sticking his face into view next to Victor’s, wrapping his long arms around Victor’s chest from behind. “Because if you try, I’ll kill you first.”

 

Victor turns to look at Yuuri, and he’s got this charmingly sweet smile on his face as he promises murder. Victor is a weak, weak man.

 

The sight of the siren strikes the Doctor dumb. But only for a moment, so Victor speaks before he can.

 

“Alight a distress beacon if you are in need,” he says, bringing a hand up to fold over where Yuuri’s rests on his chest. “Otherwise, the military will arrest you anyway and you will be held until your trial. Good day, Doctor Howard.”

 

And Victor cuts off the call.

 

There’s an explosion of noise. Everybody’s cheering, hugging. They’ve pulled off spectacular feats but this is new heights. A fleet of ships and one military vessel.

 

Yuuri is swept away from Victor in the confusion, and Victor lets it happen, knows he’ll find him later. Victor keeps being slapped on the back, Chris outright kisses him on the mouth. Victor thinks he sees a similar thing happening between Otabek and Yuri, but with a _very_ different context.

 

But when things have died down and the people who don’t belong on the bridge are starting to filter out, Yuuri is nowhere to be found.

 

“Medbay,” Mila says, catching sight of Victor’s expression.

 

Of course, Victor thinks, and goes after him.

 

* * *

 

The medical bay’s fuller than when Victor was last there. Sara’s got her hands full, mainly just with cuts and bruises seeing as nothing broke through their shields; overexcited crew who got carried away and ended up hurting themselves.

 

But in one bed, an unearthly woman lays. Her beauty would be unrivalled, if it weren’t for the figure standing beside her.

 

“How is she?” Victor asks, sliding in next to Yuuri.

 

“Okay,” Yuuri says, his voice small.

 

Victor looks up, and see the worry creasing the siren’s face.

 

“Sara’s very good at her job,” Yuuri goes on. Then sniffles.

 

“Come here,” is all Victor says, and then draws him in for a hug.

 

Yuuri comes willingly and sweetly. He folds himself into Victor’s chest, head tucked under the Captain’s chin. Victor can feel his heartbeat rabbiting away. He runs his hands through that soft, dark hair. And doesn’t say anything for a long while.

 

Yuuri doesn’t cry. He just lets Victor hold him for a bit, then sinks into the seat Sara helpfully brings over. He reaches out and takes Minako’s limp hand.

 

Victor can see that Minako is older than Yuuri now. She’s taller too, her long hair a paler brown than Yuuri’s raven locks. Her sharp features are relaxed in sleep.

 

They sit with her for perhaps half an hour before Sara returns to them.

 

“How long before she wakes up, Sara?” Yuuri asks, ever polite even though his face is tight with worry.

 

“I’m not sure, pet,” Sara says kindly, clearly as charmed by Yuuri as everyone else is. “I haven’t got experience with a large scale stunner like that. Or with your kind.”

 

Yuuri nods, his brow knitting. He looks back to Minako.

 

“Yuuri,” Victor says gently as Sara returns to her other patients. “How about you get some rest?”

 

Yuuri shakes his head, something folding in his face as his shoulders sag.

 

“I don’t want to leave her.” His voice is very small.

 

“She’s in good hands,” Victor assures him. “And you’ve had a really, really bad day.”

 

Yuuri looks at him then, a little something tugging at the corner of his mouth.

 

“It wasn’t all bad,” he whispers.

 

Yuuri watches the effect of his statement with a little smile, his nose scrunching in pleasure. Because now Victor’s the one who’s blushing. Victor presses a hand to his mouth, composing himself. God, what has he unleashed?

 

“Yuuri,” he says then, looking up. “I am saying this with no agenda beyond making sure you’re okay, but I really think you should come back to my room and rest.”

 

Yuuri considers him for a moment, still looking pleased by being able to fluster Victor. Then he looks at Minako. His mouth turns down.

 

“Okay,” he says after a moment. “Have you got a pen?”

 

Victor hands him one, nonplussed. Yuuri takes it, and gently lift Minako’s arm to meet the tip. He scribbles out a series of strange symbols on her skin, lines and dots that Victor can’t interpret, then he places her arm back to rest against her stomach.

 

“I like these,” Yuuri tells Victor then, handing the pen back. “We carve out our writing into a wax-like material, but this is far quicker.”

 

Victor marvels over this new little piece of information, another glimpse into Yuuri’s life, as he accepts the hand offered to him. Yuuri leads him from the medbay, their fingers interlaced.

 

They’re silent on the way to Victor’s rooms. There’s still this thing buzzing between them. Unresolved. New.

 

But when Victor reaches his office, he just chivies Yuuri through into the living area, places him down on the sofa, and goes to make him a hot chocolate. Yuuri laughs when he brings it over to him.

 

“Is this going to be our thing, Captain?” Yuuri asks, a lilting tease in his voice.

 

Victor sits next to him, still feeling giddy. Partly from their victory, but mainly from the way Yuuri’s looking at him. And the implications of his words.

 

“We can have many things,” Victor poses, sliding close as Yuuri takes a sip of his drink. “I’d like to have many things with you.”

 

“Hmm,” Yuuri agrees, still drinking, but his eyes are bright over the brim of his mug.

 

When he lowers it, Victor gently takes the mug even though it’s still half full.

 

“Things are a shit-show at the moment,” Victor says, which makes Yuuri giggle, breathless with how close they are. “So I’ll completely understand if this gets a no, but… I’d really, really like to —”

 

Victor is cut off by Yuuri’s lips on his own. The siren’s hands come up to cradle his face like Victor’s something precious, something to be cherished. Yuuri’s mouth is soft, warm, and electrifying. It’s a supernova.

 

Victor takes a moment to respond, surprised, but then he’s kissing back, an almost pained noise escaping him as he winds his hands around Yuuri’s slender waist. The siren hums happily in response, his mouth curving into a smile against Victor’s lips. Victor can only kiss him harder, dizzy with it, drunk on the taste of Yuuri.

 

When they break apart they’re breathless. Yuuri’s eyes are shining with something Victor’s only just finding the name for, and he draws Victor in for one more quick peck before he settles his forehead against Victor’s. Victor thinks his lungs might buckle. But they breath in tandem, finding their way together.

 

“I don’t want to let you go,” Victor whispers eventually, closing his eyes as reality creeps in. Breaking him.

 

Yuuri’s hands slip down from where they’re resting on his neck. They find Victor’s and squeeze them.

 

“You don’t have to,” Yuuri says, sounding just as amazed by his own declaration as Victor is.

 

“Really?” Victor asks, leaning back so he can see Yuuri’s face properly.

 

Yuuri smiles at him, releases one of his hands to push his own hair back, expression slightly wild.

 

“Really,” he confirms. And then — “I want to stay with you, Vitya.”

 

Victor could die. He’s pretty sure he may well do just that with how fast his heart is hammering away.

 

“Yuuri,” is the only word he can say, and then they’re kissing again.

 

They don’t stop for a long time.

 

* * *

 

Minako is a force of nature. Conveniently, she’s out for long enough that Yuuri is able to return to her side after getting some sleep of his own. This is a good thing too, because when Minako wakes she looks ready to kill.

 

She rises up in a swirl of skirts, hair, and general beautiful fury, looking ready to tear Victor’s ship apart from the inside out.

 

“Minako!” Yuuri says quickly, also rising from where he was sat at her side.

 

“Yuuri!” the female siren returns, and then flings herself at him.

 

There’s a lot of hugging. Then a lot of shouting in that language Victor can’t understand. By the end of it, Minako looks slightly mollified and Yuuri looks ready to faint.

 

She and Yuuri seem to be communicating beyond words now. They’re sat on the edge of Minako’s hospital bed, holding hands as they gaze at each other. After a little while of this, Minako releases Yuuri’s hands. And turns on Victor.

 

“You,” she says, and Victor shrinks back where he’s been standing unobtrusively by the wall.

 

Minako stands, sweeping over to him like some kind of avenging angel. Victor wonders if running would provoke her to charge.

 

Minako stops before him.

 

“What’re your intentions with Yuuri?” she asks, and her voice is clipped, lighter than Yuuri’s but with the same accent to her words.

 

And Victor could laugh with relief. He’s being sized up as a suitor, by someone who appears to be a sort of parent figure.

 

“Minako…” Yuuri whines from where he’s still sat on the bed, twisting his hands together and looking embarrassed.

 

“Hush.”

 

“I have every intention of treating Yuuri with utmost care and respect,” Victor says, doing his best to meet Minako’s gaze head on. “Over the last few days, I have found him to be someone I not only would be honoured to have among my crew, but someone I intend to know and love for a very long time.”

 

Minako’s gaze is steely and unrelenting. But Victor’s not the face of Space Fleet for nothing. He meets it head on, expression sincere, eyes calmly cool.

 

Minako’s eyes narrow for a moment, but then she’s breaking into a smile.

 

“Welcome to the family, Captain!” she says, stepping forward to slap Victor on the back.

 

This nearly sends Victor sprawling, but he catches himself and spots Yuuri staring at him in awe. He straightens and goes to him.

 

“I have to return to the bridge,” he tells him. “Sara got through to someone who she thinks will be sympathetic to our cause.”

 

Yuuri’s still gazing up at him wide eyed, but he nods. It’s a little heady, to have Yuuri looking at him like that. Victor grins at him, knocking his fingers lightly against the underside of Yuuri’s chin.

 

“I meant everything I just said, you know,” Victor tells him, and watches the colour flood Yuuri’s face.

 

“I know,” he replies quietly, and then grins back.

 

* * *

 

To say council member Lilia Baronovskaya is a formidable woman would be an understatement.

 

Victor’s sat in his office, as this really isn’t a call that should be taken on the bridge. The face of the council woman fills the screen of his lap-holo, which is sat before him on the desk. He’s heard of her before of course, Lilia being Yakov’s ex wife and having a highly accomplished career, and seen her from a distance. But this is the first time Victor’s interacted with her.

 

He’s just laid out his case, and is now steadily sweating under a coldly analytical eye.

 

“You went against direct military orders?” Lilia says eventually, the hard lines of her face not giving anything away.

 

“Yes, ma’am,” Victor says, unblinking.

 

“You purposely sabotaged a military sanctioned mission, and damaged several private ships in the process?”

 

“Yes, ma’am,” Victor says again, trying not to let his voice shake.

 

Lilia considers him, the arch of her eyebrows devastating.

 

“Pour yourself a drink, Captain,” Lilia says eventually, herself turning to reach for a crystal tumbler that sat just out of view on the screen.

 

Victor thinks he’s about to choke, but instead he rises and fetches his stash of premium grade vodka — the stuff actually from Earth — not daring to disobey. When he returns, Lilia’s own glass is filled with amber liquid. She sips it delicately, then regards him in silence.

 

“We have reason to drink,” Lilia says, her tone measured. “As you, an exemplary Captain and excellent piece of Space Fleet propaganda, have just achieved your biggest victory to date.”

 

Victor lets out a long breath, and finally lets his posture relax. He takes a big swig of vodka.

 

“You have uncovered not only a murderous group of individuals and their crimes,” Lilia goes on, looking faintly amused by the way Victor’s sagged slightly. “But also corruption in command. This mission should never have been approved nevermind received military backing. I commend your efforts, Captain Nikiforov. This’ll be one for the history books.”

 

“Thank you, Council Member Baranovskaya,” Victor says, letting the relief in his voice show.

 

“This of course,” Lilia goes on, “does not mean you shall not be reprimanded for your failure to notify the council when you suspected said crimes.”

 

“Of course, your grace,” Victor says quickly, nodding along. “I accept the council’s decision whatever it may be. I will say, however, that I was unsure how far up the corruption went, which was my main reason for holding back on reporting.”

 

This is of course a lie. The main reason was Yuuri and making sure he was safely out of the way first.

 

“You’ll be able to bring your case to the council when we discuss it,” Lilia says, waving away his explanation. “However, I can say that such motives will be taken into consideration.”

 

She looks at him properly then, gaze evaluating once more.

 

“Well done, Captain,” she says, tipping her glass in a toast. “We shall need to ethically find out more about this new species of course, and try to bring about a peaceful resolution between our kinds. I’ll be making recommendations that you head up that mission when it is put forward. Also, I should like to meet this siren of yours. No doubt he shall need to be present when you come before the council, but I think we can arrange something a little less formal before then.”

 

“Of course, your grace,” Victor agrees, feeling he could melt off his chair with how relieved he is. “Yuuri will be pleased to make your acquaintance I’m sure.”

 

“Indeed,” Lilia says, and there’s a little smile hinting at her mouth. “Good day, Captain.”

 

“Good day, your grace.”

 

And the call cuts off.

 

Victor sits for a moment, basking in the moment. Then —

 

“Vitya?” a voice calls from the other room.

 

Soft footfalls whisper across a rug, and then Yuuri’s appearing in the doorway leading to the rest of Victor’s suite.

 

“Are you finished?” Yuuri asks, and Victor nearly passes out as he sees that Yuuri’s in one of Victor’s larger shirts.

 

The hem falls midway down his thighs, which are gloriously bare. It’s the same soft blue that Yuuri so liked on him, and the siren is clutching a handful of it as he rubs sleepily at his eyes.

 

It’s quite something, to have this ethereal being, this deity among men, in one of Victor’s shirts, tucked away in his rooms.

 

“I am, love,” Victor says, rising to meet him.

 

Yuuri accepts his embrace with a pleased noise, tucking himself under Victor’s chin. They stand wrapped up in each other for a few moments, then break apart so Yuuri can lead him back into the private rooms.

 

Victor trips after him, eyes catching on the sway of Yuuri’s hips, the knowing look Yuuri slants at him over his shoulder.

 

Victor’s hypnotised, caught and conquered. He’s thoroughly lost his heart to this siren, and he doubts he’ll ever want it back. So he lets it go, sings a lullaby to his star as they sink onto the bed together, and kisses his universe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have so many ideas about this AU, like I need to see Yuuri meeting Lilia, I want to take you all to Yuuri's home, and what's Victor's home planet of Selene like? I just need more fluffy gays in space. So if these pieces do get written — of which I think there's a strong chance seeing as this got written in 3 days — I'll be making it into a series.
> 
> Thank you for reading, and especially thanks to everyone who leaves comments and kudos, your support is so appreciated :)
> 
> Feel free to yell at me on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/ewokthrowdown).


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